Disaster
by squeekness
Summary: Jael makes his first play in the Game and the outcome isn't pretty. Part two of my Game series.
1. Chapter 1

Summary: Jael makes his first play in the Game and the outcome isn't pretty. Part two of my Game series.

Rated M for profanity, violence and some sexual content. There will be some slash content but not X-men on X.

Disclaimer : I do not own the X-men or any of their associated villains, but the Siskans, the Dognan, Jael and the Outkasts are mine. Please do not use them without my permission. Thanks. :)

Art is up on my homepage for Mergers and Consolidations if anyone is interested in looking at it.

If anyone is interested, I have a forum set up to discuss my work. It can be reached through my profile page.

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(One)

_I can already hear you scoff as you read my last words – "Right then, Dreamer. How do you know your silly little dreams will come true?"_

_Well, it's a fair question and as much as I dislike to be criticized, here is your answer – I've been doing this a very long time. Oh yes, there are dreams and then there are **dreams.** These special dreams have always begun the same way – I simply wake to find myself standing in front of a simple wooden door. I could stand here and argue that I have always had a choice about whether or not to go through that door but we both know, you and I, that my curious and rebellious nature has me opening that door each and every time. _

_At first it wasn't so bad. I would step through the door, allowing it to come closed behind me. The light from the outside would wink out and I would find myself standing in a great black nothing. At first it was very frightening and disconcerting, I am a tad claustrophobic, but then – when I was finally **still **enough to listen – I began to hear voices. _

"_You will have a new Master," I'd hear them whisper. "One who will never harm you as the others have done."_

_Of course I did not believe it. Anyone who has ever owned me has torn my soul apart, including the very one who made me._

_A funny thing though, a few days later it came true._

_He was there, this Dognan King, looking down on me with nothing but the purest love. Not for me personally, he hardly knew me at that moment, but for what I was. He was a lover of Siskans, this one. An admirer of our quality. While I resisted his advances at first, I couldn't deny the kindness of his heart. Those whispering voices had told me the truth._

_So then I began to listen more carefully to the whispers in the black. There were many voices, not all of them were the same. Some spoke of simple things, others of some far off future. And then, after some time had passed, I heard her for the first time. Her voice was soft and yet the loveliest I have ever heard. She has only ever said one thing to me, but it is a command I know I will obey – "Catch me, Aiden! Catch me!"_

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One bright morning, a month after the breaking of a poor Cajun thief, a terrorist was preparing for battle. Jael had received word from Sheba, the next competitor in the Game, that she was ready to fight him any time he desired. He sent his reply naming the time and the place, it would be this morning in Central Park. Neither of them could care less about the people who might be there, fights amongst mutants here were common and no one would interfere, certainly not the pathetic humans who lived in the area. They hadn't done much to stick up for themselves so far and Jael failed to see why they would do so now. Sheba was quick to accept, saying she'd be there in an hour. Now Jael couldn't sit still for all the excitement.

He was pacing excitedly as he put on his body armor. He'd had the suit made of Adamantium chest plates and leg shields. The indestructible metal was a perk for moving to this planet, the metal was found nowhere else in this galaxy and was considered priceless. He was preparing for war, a battle he was anticipating greedily.

He knew that the battle would be one of ritual swordplay, that had been decided long ago when the Game had first been planned. The sword he kept by his throne was not just for show, he was well trained in its use and he was confident he would win. He was also aware that whatever might happen to a player on the way to the battle was fair game and beyond anyone's control. Accidents were known to happen, some of them not so accidently.

Jael had a cloaked ship prepared for his trip out to the park and was ready. His ship was more than just a simple transportation, it had been equipped with laser cannons and plasma guns. If Sheba were to have an accidental crash on the way to the meeting place, well, that was all the better for him. Even so, Jael knew Sheba wasn't that strong and that he would undoubtedly win the fight whether it took place in the sky or on the ground.

He couldn't wait to get at her harem of Siskans. Sheba supposedly had thirty Courtesans, one of them allegedly a Rogue. He couldn't wait to see him. The Rogue 'grams preferred to be male and were often strong and beautiful, powerful creatures lovely to behold.

"Is my ship prepared for launch?" he asked Razel who was standing ready in the doorway.

"Yes, my Lord. You can leave any time."

"Tell them I am ready. I'll be there in a moment."

Razel nodded and left, teleporting away in a flash of light. He knew this was a big day for them all. If Jael fell, he had every intention of taking over the organization. He was in truth Jael's Second in Command and most of the alphas would play along. Just the same, he hoped it wouldn't come to that. He was more comfortable as Jael's right hand man than as an actual leader himself. While Jael was at times brutal, he always shared with those he trusted. Razel didn't fear a betrayal from his Master.

Razel arrived at the ship that was waiting and told them it was time to depart. Jael's ships were all Dognan in design, sleek and lovely, and not all that different than Fallen's Lucky Dragon. They were silver and crescent shaped, smooth and efficient weapons of choice. The main reason Jael had never been caught was that he usually flew in to his target, shot the crap out of it, and zipped out faster than any Earthly ship could hope to travel. SHIELD had nothing as fast. The ship Jael had chosen for today's battle was manned by several mutants from his army and two of his best pilots. All moved into position and were ready when Jael finally arrived.

"Let's launch!" he barked and stepped up the ramp. He paused and looked back at Razel. "You will look after them, won't you, my friend?" he asked, meaning his group of mutants, his organization. He'd been grooming Razel for just that ever since he'd been freed from jail. Even though they had been separated during Razel's incarceration, Jael hadn't forgotten his dear friend. Jael knew this wasn't going to be his only battle in the Game and he had to be sure that things would go well while he was away.

"Yes, my Lord," Razel replied, emotion showing in his voice for the first time. He'd had an uneasy childhood and his mutation had gotten him into a lot of trouble. His parents soon washed their hands of him and he spiraled down into a rash of violent acts, eventually becoming imprisoned while still a teenager. Jael had rescued him from that SHIELD prison and raised him as his own. Jael had long made a practice of collecting the finest of mutants for his little army and a teleporter was most prized. Since then Razel had been a loyal follower, never questioning orders and offering only the best advice. He was quick to obey and was always out doing something for his Master. In truth, Razel owed this man everything and it was clear on his face and the wetness of his eyes. Razel had this to say, "But it won't come to that, Master. You will return and we'll celebrate your victory. I've got big plans for you."

Jael smiled, appreciating this fine alpha. There were few here he truly trusted and Razel was certainly one of them. Never had this one given him any reason to fear or let him down. Always Razel had been faithful in his duties and showed true devotion. Jael's eyes crinkled with amusement as he said, "Well, then. I'll leave you to it. Don't tell me your plans, I want to be surprised."

"Yes, my Lord," Razel replied with a smile. He'd recognized the gleam in Jael's eye and knew his future with this soon to be King was solid. It thrilled him beyond measure. He knew Jael would win this day and together they would rule this planet. He would have power beyond his reckoning, the only thing he desired.

Jael nodded and went up the ramp, trying to contain his excitement. This was only his second battle of the Game. The first was decades ago and had happened while he was making his way to this planet after he left Cerise and the Clan for good. His first opponent had been weak, another female Dognan like Sheba. It hadn't been a real contest but he'd gained four Siskans from it to add to his already small collection, establishing his place in the Game. Now, if he defeated Sheba and took her Rogue, he'd be in a much stronger position for later battles.

He entered the ship and took his place in the captain's chair. It was a large seat located just behind his two pilots. Like all pilots, they were standing on the power sticks that were centrally located in the Main Room. These pilots were good Ristle producers and obedient, but they were not as fully sentient as Fallen was. These were little more than well trained dogs, they flapped their tiny wings and chirped happily at their Master as he approached, eager to fly. Like all good racing animals, they were happy to fly ships and use their power. They didn't get out as often as they liked and were always thrilled to be used.

"**_Pilots! Launch!"_** Jael barked in Dognan and they were quick to obey. Blue electrical flames left their tiny wrists and were absorbed into the sticks. They were living batteries, these small white pilots. Their energy was fuel and their telekinetic power the steering for this vessel. It wouldn't be able to fly without them.

The ship powered up and began to rise, hovering over the hanger floor. On a large viewing screen in front of them, Jael could see Razel retreating to a secure area and activating the shield doors. They began to open over the craft and immediately, the hanger around them began to fill with water from the harbor above them. The doors were camouflaged and the water a gradual release. Ships in the harbor wouldn't know what was going on unless they were directly above the bay when the ship launched. Jael waited a minute for the pressure around them to equalize and then they were launching, rising up through the harbor and then out into the open air. The ship was fully cloaked and silent, the humans around them had no idea that this alien craft was among them, though Jael's co-captain was monitoring the big airliners coming into the big airport nearby. It wouldn't do to get this far only to collide with any incoming aircraft that couldn't see them.

This Dognan craft was swift and sure, flying in between the tall skyscrapers of Manhattan with silent ease. It only took them five minutes to reach the outskirts of Central Park and Jael was just giving the orders to land in one of the big open areas when the ship was suddenly struck with a large plasma blast, enough to send anyone who hadn't been strapped in flying about the cabin.

"What the hell was that!" Jael howled in anger.

"My Lord!" the co-pilot gasped. "We've been hit!"

"Sheba, you bitch!" Jael snarled. His female opponent in the Game was cheating and attacking him prematurely, hoping to dispatch him early instead of the one on one fight he had proposed earlier. Of course, he had planned to do the same thing himself, he was just upset that she'd gotten the first shot in instead of the other way around. Fine, his pilots and crew were excellent, he had prepared for every possibility. "Shields at maximum! Man the guns!"

Jael's crew scrambled to comply. They moved to their appointed places quickly, while his pilots maneuvered the ship swiftly into a better position. Both pilots were battle trained and not the least bit frightened by this change of events. This ship was armed with plasma cannons but also had two large guns loaded with the best armor piercing rounds Earthly money could buy. Jael had had those guns modified to be more powerful and had the crew enlarged to man them. He wouldn't be taken down easily.

Sheba's ship was cloaked against any human spies, but she was visible to Jael once he discovered the frequency she'd been using. She'd gotten in the first shot, but he was determined to see she didn't get the last. She was there on his screen and his crew was firing right back at her, too well trained to even need his order to fight. They were doing him proud, spraying plasma bolts in a steady stream and taking mere seconds to find the target.

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Outside the ship, the gentle spring stillness of New York City came to an abrupt and crashing halt. There were bright red flashes from out of the sky, seemingly from nowhere. These were followed by loud explosions, and then suddenly, the buildings all around the far side of Central Park were falling. Those plasma shots that had missed Sheba's ship had traveled on freely, impacting into the nearby office structures and destroying them on impact. Unlike 9/11 where there had been some smoke and fire before the fall, these buildings groaned and collapsed immediately, spraying debris and shrapnel everywhere. Some toppled onto the buildings next to them like falling dominoes, causing even more damage. The cascade effect was beyond devastating. These were office buildings loaded with people just trying to make a simple living and those poor souls never had a chance. They were now hurtling to their deaths in a cloud of smoke and ash.

Down on the street, more tiny humans fled in fear. Scrambling in all directions, some of them made it, but most of them didn't. Those that were too slow were crushed by the falling concrete and glass. Others were choked as huge plumes of dust and smoke rose up into the air. Cars in the streets were crushed instantly while still others veered wildly, causing further accidents and confusion. Explosions and fire from these traffic accidents added to the wild scene. Escape routes were cut off, trapping people and keeping them penned while death rained down from above. Blood and screaming filled the air.

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"Damnit!" Jael complained. He cared nothing about the buildings or the damage but the smoke from the collapsed buildings was hampering his vision. "Smog filters on!" he barked to his pilots, relaxing only as the screen in front of him changed to red and he could see again.

The ship was jolted by another plasma blast, but the outside shields were still holding. Jael was no fool, he had learned much from his team of alphas and used their knowledge to enhance his own capabilities, blending human and Dognan technology together to make him more powerful against his Dognan foe.

"Bank right! Return fire, use the bullet guns!"

Adding insult to the earlier destruction, the air was now filled with a fine spray of bullets, shattering glass and trees as Jael's ship now spun in circles, chasing his prey. Humans were screaming in terror below him, scrambling all about, but all Jael did was smile then howl in glee as Sheba's ship swerved wildly as it was ripped to shreds and crashed to the ground, exploding in fire and smoke.

_**"Bring us down!"**_

Jael's pilots obeyed quickly and Jael's ship landed in the middle of the mayhem, still cloaked. He was grateful that Sheba at least had the decency to crash in an open area, there was still plenty of room to fight. The ramp was lowered from his ship and he exited quickly, trotting closer to where Sheba's ship now lay in ruins. Jael stepped closer, ready for anything with his sword in hand. From the wreckage, a figure rose, covered in smoke and ash. Dognan men were known for their resilience and their females were no different. Sheba rose and came towards him, her own sword raised.

She was quite a sight. Unlike Jael, she was a member of the Dognan elite and had the large brown wings and the crooked cat like legs to prove it. She would have been breathtakingly beautiful if she hadn't been so wrecked. She was clearly injured, blood poured from her side and she was limping. Her breath was coming in short ragged pants. Still, she raised her sword, ready for battle.

Jael just snorted at her in their native Dongnan tongue. **_"Sheba, darling. Just turn over your Siskans and leave. I won't kill you if I don't have to." _**

"**_You Dognan half breed pig!"_** she snarled, blood dripping from her mouth. **_"I'll never surrender to a piece of Clan trash like you!" _**

Jael bristled at the mention of his unconventional birth. Always his illegitimacy had been held against him. It had kept him from leading the Clan and it had kept him marginalized from the true Dognan society. They tolerated his existence because of his father's great lineage, but he would never be accepted among them for real. He had hoped that proving himself in the Game would increase his status, but that didn't seem to be the case. Well, that was okay. He would show them. He would show them all!

"**_You pathetic Dognan whore!"_** Jael howled and launched himself, sword ready.

Sheba was ready for him and they clashed with a loud clang of metal. For all of her bravado, it wasn't much as a fight. She was badly wounded from the crash and it cost her. Three stokes and she was down on her knees, panting for breath. Jael didn't waste time on any more pleasantries, he simply beheaded her with one cruel stroke, her death giving him an intense satisfaction he didn't bother to hide.

From behind him one of his crew began to shout, "My Lord! The authorities are coming!"

Of course, with all of the destruction they had caused that morning, the authorities would be alerted to their battle. Jael cared not. He nodded at his co-pilot and stooped down over Sheba's body. He removed a brooch from her armor and clicked it. It would activate a beacon to her command ship that she had lost. The rules of the Game were quite rigid and her people would comply. He would send a message telling them where her Siskans were to be delivered. He grinned and walked back to his own craft, ready to depart and claim his winnings.


	2. Chapter 2

(Two)

It was still early morning when word of the battle hit the news. New Yorkers were fond of cameras and mini-cams, there was plenty of food for the newsreels. Someone had actually captured the explosions and the brutal sword fight on the grass, showing the world once and for all how this was the work of mad mutants. In this strange world filled with humans more animal than man, it never occurred to anyone that this was the work of aliens. No, it was the lousy mutants again, mutants so bold and callous that they cared not who's buildings they toppled so long as they won their petty wars.

The usual crew was gathered in Remy's kitchen, chowing down on breakfast when they had a sudden uninvited guest -- Bobby Drake burst into the kitchen in a bit of rush. He was a young man, still in his late twenties. He was wearing the standard black uniform suggesting he had just come in from patrol. Wanting to be a little different, he had short cropped blonde hair spiked a little at the top and a little blond fuzz on his chin. He was also known as Iceman for his ability to conjure ice from the ambient moisture in the air around him and bend it to his will. He had come in in a hurry, yelling, "Hey, guys! Check out the news!"

Now Bobby was rather fond of pulling practical jokes so no one took him that seriously at first, but soon enough the blond mutant had them convinced he wasn't playing around this time. The television was finally turned on and they saw film footage of a huge disaster just outside of Central Park. The details weren't clear, but it looked as though someone had caused a massive explosion. At least three major office buildings had been toppled onto others around them, creating a disaster area far worse than Bin Laden's terrorist act that had occurred there only a few short years ago. No one needed to be told the death toll would be ridiculously high.

"Somebody needs to get some new material," Karen joked wryly.

"Get them kids outta here!" Logan ordered gruffly to Kimble. He was Head of Security, but he was also a father. He didn't think such small children should be witnessing this horror, even sanitized as it was for the news. Many people had been killed and others wounded, the footage was filled with pictures of bleeding people and bodies being carried off in black bags. A scrolling banner along the bottom suggested the death toll would likely be in the tens of thousands.

Kimble nodded and obeyed immediately. He generally avoided watching the news anyway and had tuned most of it out as soon as he saw that the news wasn't good. So many deaths had been reported, he'd rather not know. He took Carter from his mother and placed him in a Jerry pack, strapping him to his chest. He then started grabbing the plates of their unfinished breakfast and escorted the children outside. He was a member of the family, but not a proper member of the X-men team. He'd accepted his place and so didn't argue when things like this happened and he got left out. His responsibility was to the kids and that was just fine with him. He took the kids to a small picnic table under a nearby tree and life went on as usual. Well, except for the tiny black cloud that was now rising far off in the distance. Westchester wasn't so far away that the signs from the disaster couldn't be seen.

"What's going on, daddy?" Angel asked.

"Don' know, kiddo. I'll letcha know soon as I kin finds out."

He saw her concentrate and he growled, scolding her. "Don'tcha be tryin' ta use yer powers now, baby doll. You knows you cain't controls 'em too good. Jus' be patient."

"Yes, daddy."

On top of her slight empathic ability, Angel was also showing some promise as a telepath. For her to be showing signs of it this young, Charles was certain she was going to grow up to be a telepath as powerful as himself if not more so. She had been trying to use her budding power to try and probe the adults back in the quad. Kimble didn't approve, he was a student of Xavier's enough to respect other people's privacy. He didn't want her looking into the minds of others, especially if they were focused on something as violent as what had clearly happened this morning.

Kimble looked over the kids as they finished eating and let them scamper off to a tiny playground close by the house. Charles Xavier was strict on physical discipline and had several playgrounds like this all about the grounds. There was a large jungle gym, a slide and some swings. Kimble stacked the plates but left them, not wanting to go back inside until he was told it was okay. He went to the playground and waited patiently, watching them play. He would have taken the kids out here anyway before taking them to the center so his routine hadn't been disrupted that much by the news. He hugged the baby at his chest, loving the feel of a small child so close. He had missed this when Angel got too big to be handled this way. He was making up for it with Carter, but knew that soon too, even this chubby baby would grow too big for it as well.

Kimble turned and looked behind him when he saw Gambit come limping out of the house. He was still on crutches and was hobbling along as best he could for the now. Kimble was silent, saving his greeting until Gambit had shuffled to a stop beside him. "It's a good day fer it, huh? Playin' outside, I means," Kimble said as if the world wasn't coming apart.

"Logan wants you inside, little brother. Got work for you to do, s'il vous plait."

Kimble snorted. "Like what? This here is my job."

"Not just dis minute. Gambit's gonna take over."

Kimble eyeballed Remy's crutches. "Uh huh, shure. You couldn't keep up with these guys on a good day."

"Angel's gonna 'elp me, eh petite?"

"You bet, Uncle Remy!" she chirped from on top of the large wooden jungle gym.

"See? Now give dat baby 'ere."

Kimble reluctantly removed the Gerry Pack and handed over its precious cargo. "This ain't a good idea," he grumbled. Really, it wasn't that he thought Remy wasn't capable, it was just that he didn't want to go up to the house. He had a feeling he wasn't going to like what Logan had to say.

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Kimble walked into the house, keeping his eyes low. Logan looked at him as he entered and the Siskan paused, uncertain. "What I done now?"

"Sit," Logan ordered, pointing to a chair that faced the television.

Kimble did as he was told, shifting uncomfortably in his seat. He was always fearful of Logan's wrath and he could see the man's shine was full of anger and violence being barely held in check. Kimble wasn't sure who Wolverine was mad at, he just prayed it wasn't himself. He couldn't think of anything he'd done wrong that morning. He'd obeyed Logan's orders and brought the kids outside, that was all.

"Watch the replay," Wolverine growled, showing his teeth in his anger.

Kimble turned to the screen and watched, cringing at the sight of all the carnage. It was difficult for him to watch such violence. It wasn't long before he began to shiver and cry. "Why I gots ta see? I ain't done nuthin' wrong," he whimpered softly, his wings down.

"Somethin' ain't right about this," Wolverine grumbled. "Listen."

Kimble closed his eyes all too eagerly, not wanting to see the frightening images anymore. He listened, though. It was hard to make out all the sounds, especially with so many people screaming, but he soon had an idea of what Logan was getting at. It had been a while since he'd been called upon for his expertise in Siskan and Dognan mechanics. While he'd been in Fallen's computer, he had served as her chief mechanic and diagnostic technician. All that seemed like a dream from some other time but he possessed a computer driven perfect memory and recall. He was almost flattered that Logan remembered about it. "I hears it. Ships. Dognan ships. Them could be plasma blasts what took the buildin's down. But what would they be doin' here? Are they invadin' us like they done on Fallen's world?"

Long ago, Fallen had lived on an Earth like this one, a parallel world. It didn't have Xavier's or mutants, but it had legends of them, legends that had been spelled out in comic books and movies. She had grown up a fan and it stayed with her, even as her world was ruthlessly invaded and destroyed by the Dognan hordes. She'd survived her capture and later her forced conversion into a pilot. In the glum times, she'd remembered the legends and told them to Seth and Kimble, saving some small scrap of the world she'd grown up in. She had also told the Siskans about the fate of her world. Since the X-men had already been kidnapped by Dognan slavers already, it wasn't out of the question for the Dognan invaders to be coming here to finish off this world like they had Fallen's.

"Those're Dognan ships all right," Logan said, not exactly answering Kimble's question. "Damned if I know why they're here. Gonna send a tape of this down to yer brother. Get a confirmation."

Kimble opened one eye. Was he hearing Logan right? He'd been called here for advice? Not to be yelled at for something?

Wolverine grunted at him, giving his shoulder a pat. "Go on back outside. Bring the kids in and get their sleeping gear. I didn't sound the alarm yet, but I'm gonna. Code Yellow. I want them all in the lower level where it's safe. You got ten minutes ta pack them all up and get 'em in the Danger Room."

"Them Dognan guys ain't gonna come here, are they?"

"I ain't gonna chance it. You heard me, boy. Move yer ass!"

Kimble hopped up and left quickly.

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The Code Yellow alarm went off and the next hour saw most of the school's occupants scrambling to comply. A Code Yellow meant that everyone was to gather in the lower levels of the school complex, the Danger Room specifically. The Danger Room was a large room, twice the size of the gym and the Institute's shelter. It was located fifty feet under the ground and protected with energy shields no ordinary weapons could penetrate. It was here that the primary X-men members used holograms and sophisticated machines to hone their battle skills. The holograms they used here were not sentient like Kimble and Seth, merely cannon fodder and learning aides.

The members of the school had been drilled on the Codes many times and the evacuation went smoothly. Each resident had a pre-prepared pack of equipment they brought with them which included sleeping gear, a change of clothes, and some food supplies in case they had to be there a while. The lower level had its own separate supplies beyond that, Logan had seen to that. The Institute could be under siege for a month or more before the food and water ran out.

Professor Xavier also owned the adjacent properties to the Institute and the older mutants that had graduated to teams were boarded there. They got the alert as well and converged on the Mansion, offering their expertise and training in keeping the place safe. In the bad times, they all banded together as one, a mutant army ready to defend its home base.

Located in the lower level as well was the War Room. As part of procedure, Charles held a meeting there of his finest team members. Leaders from all the various teams were there as well as their captains and most honored guards. The Professor had called the Mayor of New York City and offered his services in the search and rescue effort. With all of his telekinetics and telepaths, they would be a big help in locating the wounded and getting them out alive.

Logan shifted uncomfortably in his seat at Professor Xavier's offer. He was one of the highest ranking officers here, but he hadn't been consulted about this. They had helped out in the search and rescue efforts during 9/11, but this time was different, this time the atrocity had supposedly been committed by mutants, not an Islamic terrorist. He was outraged by the whole episode, despising the attackers for playing their stupid game in the middle of a City where so many people lived. He always got riled up at a useless expenditure of innocent lives. The news was reporting as many as ten thousand people were dead or missing. Those left standing around were sure to be just a wee bit upset. There were already some reports of innocent mutants being rounded up and beaten in retaliation for a crime they hadn't committed. There was always a fine line of tension between humans and mutants at any given time, something like this upset that fragile balance and unfortunately it usually tipped against those with the mutant gene. It was going to be ugly out there for a while.

"Is that wise?" Logan grunted to his mentor. "If this ain't an outright invasion --- which I think it ain't, it's too small --- Jael probably did this. We could go out there an' get shot just fer bein' mutants 'cause of him."

Logan was quite convinced this was Jael, actually. He had watched the replay of the sword fight numerous times that morning and thought he recognized the Dognan terrorist himself. They had met once and the experience had been unpleasant enough for Logan never to forget it. The only good thing to come of it was that he'd had his memory restored, but he was less than grateful for that, some things had been better off forgotten.

Charles nodded, respecting his opinion, but offered, "The Mayor's warned the police and security teams out at the site and has promised us safe conduct. I want all the telekinetics and psychics to go."

"They're gonna need guards and folks keepin' them safe from crowds."

"That is why I'm sending you along. I want Scott here to watch over the Institute."

Scott Summers, Cyclops, the Professor's Second in command, rose to his feet. "With all due respect, sir. Logan isn't...Perhaps he isn't the best choice to negotiate with the Mayor, sir."

Wolverine sat in his chair, unmoving except for the deepening of his sneer of contempt.

These two were the polar opposites of each other, had been from day one. Logan was gruff and impetuous, coarse and unforgiving in his manner. Scott was the picture of control, the master of nuance and politics. His complaint had merit.

The Professor raised a hand in understanding. "I need Logan to go, Scott. His tracking skills and healing factor will be the middle ground here. He needs to be out there finding victims and helping with the rescue. He can go where others cannot. I need you here in his place. You will be better served here. I'm sure Jean will see to it Logan is on his best behavior," he finished, looking in her direction.

Jean sat in her chair, smiling now with amusement. "You can count on me, sir."

"Logan?"

"Whatever ya say, Chuck," Logan replied, the choice of moniker a deliberate but respectful snub. He did not approve of the Professor's joke.

"Good. You will depart in ten minutes. Fallen is preparing her ship as we speak."

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Teams were assembled for the search and rescue efforts and were waiting to depart. Fallen was an X-man by default, she had brought Seth here to the Institute and he'd been an invaluable member of the team. But there were times like this when she herself showed some real value. The Lucky Dragon was a vessel she had designed and built from her knowledge of Dognan craft. It had been built for transport. The Dragon was swift and sure, almost silent and fully cloaked when he needed to be. Today, Fallen and her Dragon would be flying out the teams to the damage site to work on the rescues.

"So when are we going?" Seth asked, looking over the first wave of alphas to go. Maylee was there with her fiance Max. Max was a winged telekinetic and one of Logan's personal favorites. The two were never far apart and Logan was grooming him as a security specialist. They both worked out a lot together and Max was two hundred and fifty pounds of hulking muscle, a far cry from the scrawny kid he used to be. He was blonde and shining like a god, but best of all, he had a good heart. Fallen couldn't be happier with Maylee's choice. Maylee herself was going on this trip, Henry would be staying behind in case he was needed here.

"**We** aren't going anywhere, love," Fallen replied to Seth sternly. "You're staying here."

"But we always go places together."

"Not on Code Red we don't."

"Code Yellow."

"It's Code Yellow at the house, but it's a Code Red out there. Besides, this isn't just a drop off. I might have to stay and help find victims."

"I'll stay in the ship. You know I won't go anywhere."

Fallen cleared her throat and raised her chin, establishing her dominance. They were close like any other married couple but there were subtle differences. Fallen would always be in charge, she was the one who decided things. Her word was law and he would obey. She was his Mistress now as she said, "No. You are going to stay here and that's final. It's not safe and I won't put you at risk. Kimble will need help with the kids. Now run along and do as I say."

"Fallen, please. I don't want you to go without me. What if something happens to you?" he asked, trying to be pushy although his eyes were submissive to her. "I couldn't bear it if you were gone."

Fallen didn't answer, she didn't have time. She reached for Seth's power cubes and gave them to Max who was standing by doing nothing just yet. "Give these to Remy, would you please?"

"Sure thing, Fallen," Max replied and left, a knowing smile on his face.

Where Kimble used plasma energy gathered from the sun to survive, Seth still required Ristle from his Mistress. She powered up the cubes that Seth fed off of. Without the cubes, Seth was essentially trapped. He had to stay where they were. The cubes would be given to Remy because his bio-kinetic energy was similar to Fallen's Ristle. It wasn't as strong, but it could keep Seth alive until her return.

"Fallen, wait! You can't!" Seth protested, his eyes growing shiny with frustration.

"I just did, now go. I'll be back when I can." She gave him a quick kiss and walked up the ramp of the Lucky Dragon, never looking back.

Seth stood there, forlorn. He was furious now and threatening tears. Like Kimble he was still very much a child, but he was growing stronger every day. He had vowed long ago to find a way to break his dependance on the cubes. It hadn't happened yet and it was times like these he felt real anger and frustration that he had no leg to stand on when it came to enforcing his desires. This wasn't the first time he'd been forced to stay behind like this and he resented it.

Seth put his head down with a soft snarl of frustration and walked off towards the Danger Room. He had his pack of stuff as everyone else did, but he also had his laptop computer and some books. He was mentally very active and had to keep busy or he'd just go nuts. Unlike Kimble who slept much as a normal human did, Seth only required two hours or so a day, it took a lot to keep him occupied. The Danger Room door was open and he shuffled inside. Someone had thoughtfully set up a grid program on the floor so that all the parking places were marked, creating isles to walk down. Seth saw Kimble and Remy all the way to the back and made his way there.

This really was one of the safest rooms in the Institute. On top of the room's natural defenses, the lower level itself was heavily protected with security measures. Not just anyone from the house could hop down here. The path from the upstairs to here was lined with powerful alpha mutants making sure that everything was as it should be.

Seth dumped his pack down next to Remy and sat with a pout.

"She leave you behind, pet?" Of course Gambit already knew the answers to this. The Ristle cubes were in his lap and he was already giving them a slow charge.

"Yeah. This sucks."

"Well, don' feel bad, Molly dumped me, too. Guess we'll 'ave to make do. Look it 'ere, I was going to save dis fo' later, but mebbe you want dis now, eh?"

Seth turned to see what Remy had offered and his face broke out in a huge grin. Gambit was mindful of Seth's special needs and had bought him a new computer game. Seth had an aversion to violence as did all Siskans, but he played roleplaying strategy games without a problem. He knew it wasn't real and those tiny little computer armies reaping havoc didn't bother him. Remy had just given him Warcraft3, the newest and shiniest version of that popular series. It was still wrapped in cellophane, a bright shining virgin just waiting to have its cherry popped.

"Oh, thanks!" Seth said, his face beaming now. He gave Remy a squeeze and started to unpack his stuff, eager to try it out.

Gambit grunted a laugh and peeked over his shoulder at Kimble. Seth's brother had watched the whole thing with wry amusement. "If only you was so easy," Remy teased.

Kimble liked games and books as well, but his emotional turbulence shortened his attention span. He was better suited to physical labor, building and fixing things. It was why he was always redecorating the children's center or the apartment. He had overseen the construction of most of the playgrounds for the children on the grounds. This year Remy had Kimble plant a large garden outside and it was doing well, thriving under the Siskan's loving hands.

At the moment, Kimble was organizing books for the small ring of children camped out beside them. He was merely watching over them until their parents came by to collect them. He'd had them singing songs earlier, but then it got too noisy as the room began to fill up. He grinned up at Remy, but made no reply to the dig. The truth was it was getting too quiet in here despite the noise, he was down to four kids. Soon it would be just him and Angel. As long as he was busy he didn't have to think about what was going on. He kept telling himself this was no big deal...but that wasn't true.

In all of his time here, there had never been a Code Yellow for real. Not like this. Not with all the whispers of death and destruction. Not with the pale faces of the adults vibrating such concern and fear. Some of the girls in the front were crying, horrified by the day's events. Jael's name had come up more than once. Not everyone here believed this was a Dognan thing, well..not a whole army of Dognan thing anyway. The vibrations of the folks around him seeped into his skin and it was hard. He felt their excitement and in some cases, their panic.

"You okay, little brother?" Remy was asking.

"Shure," Kimble replied this time with a smile he didn't feel. It was hard to hide his emotions from his perceptive friend, but he did his best. He didn't want Remy to worry about him. He'd caused enough suffering already these past few days. He returned to his books and waited word from the team on the outside just like everyone else.


	3. Chapter 3

(Three)

Fallen landed her craft with ease, settling the Lucky Dragon down in Central Park where a command post for the rescue efforts had been set up. She was nervous and excited, it was strange for her to be going along with the team instead of just dropping them off as she usually did. She was a good pilot, one of the best the Dognan had ever made, and she was very brave. She had flown without cloaks so that the folks there would know she was coming and a big 'X' had been draped over the side of the ship on a banner. She was taking no chances.

Over the years Fallen had flown many missions for the X-men and so, like Jael, she had modified her ship from a simple transport vessel to one with automated defenses. There were now several cannons that fired Ristle blasts from reserves stored in two large batteries she had constructed down in the Engine Room. Few people could enter the ship without a hand scan or a by-pass only given by herself or Seth. There were security grids and shields on the exterior. She could park her ride and then leave it without worrying about it being hijacked.

The crew departed and stepped down on the grass. All were wearing the special uniforms the Professor had designed for the team. Light black leather and spandex, all designed for the comfort of the wearer. All wore black jackets as well. The sleeves were decorated with large X in a circle, the sign of the X-men, making them recognizable to those who might not know them.

Fallen was a little uneasy in her uniform, it was rare that she was ever called to wear it for real. She usually just dropped off passengers and then left, but today she was staying to do some real work with the team. She took Wolverine's lead and followed him as the crew walked slowly over to the command center. Some of the other relief workers there stopped what they were doing and stared, others made some nasty and bitter comments. Fallen heard a hiss, "Oh sure. Muties started this, now we got more muties helpin' out. Who needs them!"

Fallen kept her head down, but she wasn't really afraid. She was a powerful telekinetic walking here among friends even more powerful than she was. A battle out here would have only one ending and it wouldn't be hers.

An area had been cordoned off in one small section of the park and some trailers had been set up for theCommand area where all the relief work was being coordinated. The group stopped outside the largest trailer and Logan thumped on the door with a fist, growling loudly, "Knock, knock!"

The door opened, giving Logan a good view of who was inside. The fire chief and Mayor were there with some other City officials and men from the local utility companies. Chuck Crenshaw, the current Mayor, stepped outside to greet the X-men and extended his hand. "Ah, Mr. Logan! It's good to see you again!"

Scott Summers need not have worried so much about the meeting of these two men. Logan preferred to keep busy and had helped the City out on numerous murder and missing child cases, using his enhanced senses to play detective. This wasn't the first disaster case he'd assisted on though it was the biggest. He shook the Mayor's hand and being blunt and unpolitical, got right to the point. "This is our crew. We got some flyers, some telekinetics fer liftin' stuff and some sniffers, too. That's my niece over there, Molly. She can speak sign language if ya need an interpreter. Also got some telepaths, this is Jean Grey-Summers."

"We've met," the Mayor replied, shaking her hand as well. "I've got a man who'll take you down to the site. It's actually three sites, the area of debris extends almost to three blocks alongside the Park. You'll have to spread out some."

"That's all right. We got some badges so that we can be identified by power. Just tell us where ya want us and we'll be there."

"Thanks."

The Mayor then pulled Logan aside and bent down for a confidential whisper, "Do any of you have an idea who might have done this?"

Logan bristled a bit at the implied notion – that since he was a mutie and muties had done this, that all the other muties would know who it was. Truth was, he did know but that information hadn't come through the usual channels. He wasn't about to admit he had once seen Jael for himself and had thought he'd recognized the guy from that mornings tapes. That information had been withheld from SHIELD and if it had gotten out, he would no doubt be taken into custody and debriefed, something that would certainly entail pain and other less pleasant forms of persuasion. "That's SHIELD end of things, Mr. Crenshaw. We're just here to clean up the mess and help keep the peace."

The Mayor nodded gravely. He had gotten the response he expected. Really, he hadn't seen the X-men ever start any trouble though they were often around to finish it if a super powered being got out of hand. The X-men's public face was one of keeping the peace, not instigating.

The Mayor was perfectly aware of course that SHIELD had in fact already been on the scene for some time. They had arrived first, only moments after the first building had collapsed. Since mutants were suspected of causing this, they had immediately cordoned off the area where Sheba's ship had crashed, keeping it well out of sight of the crowds. The public might be thinking that this was the work of mutants, but SHIELD hadn't wasted any time in investigating the craft that had been left behind. They couldn't be sure if it was of alien manufacture or just something a mutant super brain had cooked up. It had at first been thought to be a smashed up car from when the buildings had fallen, but it hadn't taken long to see it was so much more. They might not discover who had actually made the craft, but they would be sure to try and backwards engineer whatever they could salvage and use it for themselves.

Sheba's body had been left behind, headless, on the grass but that in itself meant nothing, so many mutants out there didn't even resemble normal humans. Nothing could be judged on appearance alone. They had bagged her remains just the same and carted it away for forensics to go over.

SHIELD, of course, had done their best to keep the Mayor ignorant of as much of this as they could, and the rescue workers as well. They were a government agency and as shady as they came. They would do their best to keep the public from panicking. It was bad enough that there were already some bad rumblings in the crowd, violence was inevitable.

The Mayor of course said none of this to Logan, he just patted the guy on the back and said, "The peace you'd better leave to us, Mr. Logan. It'll look better that way and keep the crowds happy. We're just pleased you came to help out."

The pleasantries were soon over and Fallen found herself marching out with the rest of the crew. As promised they had a guide telling them where they should start helping out. As they moved closer to the work area, it was growing louder. Rescue workers were using some heavy machinery to move debris, but mostly it was the crowd of onlookers that was the source of the noise. The police werebusy working, holding back masses of angry humans. Many were holding anti-mutant signs and protesting loudly against the crew in black as they approached the site.

"Damn, stinkin' muties! Go back to your hole!"

"We don't want you here!"

"Let's burn 'em boys! Let's put 'em all in camps! Let them kill each other in there instead of out here where we live!"

Fallen shuddered a bit, withering under the wrath of the crowd. In all her time here she had never been face to face with the anti-mutant hate like this. There were big banners and effigies of burning mutants. Just the thought of the camps reminded her of the conditions she had lived under with the Clan. The memories were not fond ones.

Max was behind her, all two-hundred and fifty pounds of him. "Don't you worry, I won't let them get ya," he promised.

She could defend herself if need be, but she was grateful none the less. "They're so hateful!"

"Nah, just ignorant. Let's show 'em what good muties do, eh?"

"X-men! Spread out!" Logan hollered over the noise, gesturing for them to pair up and follow their guides to where they would be needed. Fallen paired up with Molly and they moved out. They would spend much of the next twenty-four hours digging through rubble and searching for survivors. As a telekinetic, Fallen could lift the debris more carefully than any machine, even using her Ristle to cut if needs be. Molly meanwhile could sniff out the bodies of the dead and trapped, assisting in the recovery. It was going to be brutal work and the hours would be long.

Fallen took in the scene before her with a rising sense of discomfort. The smoke and debris reminded her of distant Dognan battles she'd been forced to participate in as part of her work as a pilot. A main gas line had been ruptured and there was a large fire burning in one area. The smoke and destruction brought forth terrible memories of the Dognan pens and she was chilled at the thought of a real war. Was this a real Dognan invasion like had happened on her home world? If it was, she would fight the Dognan to the death to stop it. This time she had weapons and powerful friends. She wasn't going to let them come in here and destroy this Earth she now called home.

Wolverine wasn't far away, digging through some of the rubble with Rogue at his side. Rogue was mildly telekinetic and used that to enhance her strength. She was carefully lifting some overturned cars out of the way so the rescue workers could get closer. Logan was directing her to a safe place to fly off the remains and stack them for later disposal.

Fallen watched as Wolverine grew more and more silent, a sign of his terrible anger. He was furious at Jael for doing this, knowing deep in his heart that the terrorist had been responsible for it. Logan had seen the blurry footage of the battle on the television. His one visit with Jael had been upsetting enough that he could recognize the terrorist and assume that he had been a participant in this. He was angry at Jael not just for playing the stupid Game, but for tipping the scales against mutants here in the real world. The rioting was only sure to worsen. Out here, even as much as the X-men were working, the whole time the mutterings of hate went on behind their backs from those they working with. Even the rescuers really didn't want them here even though the work was going much faster now.

Not everyone was mean though, Fallen gratefully accepted a cup of coffee from a Red Cross worker. "Thanks."

"You're welcome. I'm Lucas," he said, smiling at her. He was very young, maybe sixteen. He was dressed in white coveralls that only exaggerated the bright green of his hair. He wasn't a mutant, just a very vivid punk rocker. He had a Beastie Boys pin on his uniform. "You're like that other one, Meer. The one that used to work at the fire station."

Fallen laughed, remembering fondly the pilot she had met years ago. One of Jael's pilots had escaped from his underground lair and had been picked up by a fireman named Bob Kenna. Meer became a mascot for the station and had managed to get her picture in the local newspaper. The X-men had seen it and later used Meer to track Jael down. He escaped that day but not without taking some damage.

"Yes, I am like Meer," she answered, not being entirely honest. Meer was a lesser pilot and not as sentient as she was. Meer was more like an above average dog that could speak some in the Dognan language. Fallen was as bright as any human and mechanically, even more so. She had built the Lucky Dragon from scratch.

"Meer was very friendly," Lucas said. "I got to meet her once when we were doing a fund raiser. Haven't seen her in a while though. I think she and that fireman guy retired."

"I'm sure they're still around somewhere," Fallen replied, remembering Meer's enthusiasm for her job. She'd been especially fond of riding on the bright red fire trucks.

"Well, I gotta go. Just wanted you to know that not all of us hate you guys. I say you guys rock!"

Fallen laughed at his enthusiasm and watched him go. She turned when she heard a soft grunt from behind her. **_Who was that guy? _**Molly signed.

"Our one fan. Enjoy him while he lasts," she joked and let Molly share her coffee.

Molly took a sip and returned the cup, freeing her hands to speak. **_One of the workers thought he heard noises over here. There might be someone still alive._**

"Then let's get to it," Fallen said, taking Molly's lead and heading off to work. it was just the start of a long day to come.

-----------------------

While the crews above were clearing the rubble, Jael was down below, celebrating. He sat on his large throne, doing his best to keep still as Sheba's Siskans were brought in. He was a bit drunk from the wine and excited by the party. Razel had outdone himself and brought the finest champagne and the best food available. Jael had feasted and drunk well, his eyes were droopy and contented.

Sheba's Siskans were a motley bunch, even to his intoxicated eyes, and he could see most of them were useless. They shuffled around, looking nervous and shy. They were dressed in the light thongs of Siskan Courtesans which left them mostly naked, making their Marks that much more visible. They looked rumpled and dirty, Sheba had obviously grown as bored at caring for them as he had his own. At least they had brought their angels, most of them were carrying a wooden box of some kind. He would have them washed and then he would select those he would keep and then dispatch the others to the killing room. Sheba kept her spares alive, but Jael wasn't so patient. Besides, he wasn't about to have them turned over to whomever might defeat him. Better it was to cheat them all.

"Where's the Rogue?" he demanded, drunkenly waving his empty wine glass in the air.

"Here, Master!" Razel said, dragging one Siskan along by the arm. She was a tiny thing, pale and white, reminding Jael of the white slaves back home on Cerise. At least her body was human. Her Mark was large and orange, confirming her status as a Rogue.

There were four basic Marks in the Game, each with its own color. Red were for Masons, Brown were Builders, Blue were Receivers and the Green was for Channelers. The titles correlated to the types of angels they might find. The angels would be combined to make the Game player's machine, his Shalayesk weapon. The red were Masons and so found items that connected things, clasps and binders. The Builders tended to find items that were parts, wheels and engines and metals that could be used to make things. The Receivers and Channelers dealt with energy, their Angels would be used to power the machine, probably. Jael hadn't been playing the Game long enough to assemble much a of machine, but with these new additions, he could get to work on that straight away.

The Rogues were a whole other thing entirely. There were at least four that Jael knew about, but their colors and titles were a mystery. This one before him was very pretty with her long white hair and he would be certain to keep this one alive. Her angel must be magnificent! He scowled when he saw her arms were empty.

"**_What is this!"_** he demanded in Siskan. **_"Where is your angel!" _**

The Siskan cowered immediately at the commanding sound of his voice. **_" 'S in the machine!"_** she squeaked. **_"M' Mistress tooks it already!" _**

Jael couldn't help but smile at the strange sound of her voice. She was a Lushna-esk 'gram all right, an empath. The Mark said it was so. But more than that she was Kintay du Lushna-esk, one of the "touched". At some point in her life she had been melted, perhaps more than once. The result was a much more powerful 'gram, the mangled speech a dead giveaway. He had heard of such 'grams but this was the first he had seen in person. He knew Kimble was like this, but that one had so far eluded his grasp. Were all Rogue 'grams Kintay? he wondered. What a pleasure it would be to find out.

Jael smiled at her disarmingly. **_"Pardon my rudeness, dear. Pray, where is this machine?" _**

"**_M' Mistress didn't ever say. It come to her when she tooks me from Kraystan, m' Master b'fore her," _**the Siskan responded quickly, only wanting to please.

"Did anything else besides these Siskans arrive?" Jael asked Razel, turning away from her.

"Yes, my Lord. A large crate."

"Bring it."

"Of course, Master," Razel replied and left.

Now waiting, Jael returned his gaze to the Siskan in front of him. **_"What's your name, child?" _**

"**_Numiah-lay, Master,"_** she responded, quick to acknowledge that she had just changed hands again.

"_**Star? How lovely. Tell me, do you speak the human English?" **_

"Yes, Master," she answered, changing languages quickly.

"Very good," he said, pleased. She was very responsive and he was falling in love with her already. She was so very small and pretty, her pale orange eyes blinking up at him. "I see your Mark, such a marvelous color. What is your Title, dear?"

"Regenerator, Master."

"Hmm. How exciting. Did your maker teach you well? Do you know best how to please?"

Her eyes brightened. "Oh yes, Master!"

"Come here, then. Show me."

Star approached him, crouching down at his knees and tipping her head up to be kissed. She reached out and lay a careful hand on his large brown chest, admiring his tattoos. She was indeed a powerful 'gram and wise in the ways of her powers. One quick look at this man's shine told her a lot. He wanted to be in charge, he was the boss. He would use her, yes, but he would never love her. Not the way she dreamed of. He would never accept her as something real or alive. He was just like Sheba, cruel and empty inside. The best she could hope for was to please him and hope he was just too busy later to keep using her. Sheba had closeted her away where it was small and safe, perhaps this one would as well.

Jael kissed her, grunting happily when one of her tiny white hands slipped between his legs and gave him a gentle squeeze. He felt her Kundatesh come at him and lick the corners of his mind, promising much pleasure to come. He was eager for it, but still had business to tend to.

"Very good, my dear. I'll have you washed and sent up to my room. There's a good girl."

Star smiled up at him, giving him her best face. The close contact had confirmed her suspicions. This Master would be no better than the last. He'd been around his own Siskans enough to be addicted to the Kundatesh, his body was hungry for it. She would please him and he would feed off of her vibrations. It would ensure her survival, but this man would never grow to love her. That great big empty spot inside of her would remain. Such was her fate. She had no choice but to accept it.

"Take them all to be cleaned and properly dressed," Jael ordered to his alphas waiting nearby. They nodded and removed the Siskans, taking them out of sight for the moment. Such a large group would take time, it would allow him to inspect the crate Razel had seen. There, just as promised, his teleporter returned, towing a large crate behind him on a manual worksaver. The box had been too big to carry and he was using this large dolly to move it into place.

"Here it is, Master," Razel said, his eyes gleaming with excitement. He couldn't wait to see what was inside.

Jael rose from his throne and came closer. Razel handed him a crowbar and watched as his Master opened the box. Jael opened the box and pulled out some straw stuffing. He grinned. Here it was. Sheba, the fool. She had used some of her Siskan's angels to create the beginnings of a Shalayesk machine, but never had the brains to complete it or even thought to use it in her fight against him. The whole point of collecting the Siskans in the first place was this. This machine was power itself, a device of conquest. Just the thought of all that power made him smile.

The item before him was actually in several pieces, the beginnings of a special suit of armor and some sort of gun. He could see the binders there, the small engines that were no doubt protective shield generators for the armor or future weapons. He wouldn't waste time as Sheba had. He would take the angels she had neglected and assemble the rest of this machine as quickly as possible. Once that was ready, he would be sure to visit the next player in the Game. He wanted this world and he would have it.

Razel took a step closer, daring to interrupt his Master's thoughts. "Lord, there is more."

Jael quirked an eyebrow in surprise. He had been given so much already. "Yes? What is it?"

Razel just smiled. "Sheba's crew was concerned for their safety. In return for their safe conduct away, they have offered you one of Sheba's command ships."

Jael burst into amused laughter. Was there any greater form of flattery than this? Because the destruction in the City had been so great, Sheba's people assumed he was far more powerful than he actually was. He possessed ships of Dognan design but nothing as powerful as a command ship. A Dognan command ship could carry as many as a thousand crew members and had plasma guns far more powerful than anything he could equip on his own, much smaller vessels. This was too much, with that ship alone he could do some real damage, perhaps even go after Xavier himself with little trouble. It was something he would give some serious consideration to.

He grinned his large, toothy smile. "Tell them we would be more than happy to accept their terms."


	4. Chapter 4

(Four)

It was late evening when Gambit lay on a sleeping bag, propped up with a chair pillow Henry had so thoughtfully provided. He was in the back of the Danger Room, his motivations selfish -- he wanted a whole room of mutants between his Siskans and the door. Both Kimble and Seth were on either side of him. Kimble was asleep with Angel beside him and Seth was on his other side, his trusty laptop open and fired up. Kimble didn't see much of his brother but every six months he presented Seth with the newest, most expensive unit available. Kimble's excuse was that he needed something to spend his money on, Sabretooth had left him well provided for. Of course Seth had already modified it with special battery packs he'd made, it had a continuous power source and was as good as plugged in.

Kimble's twin was fast at work, viewing videotaped footage of the Central Park Disaster. He was using a powerful program he'd designed to focus in on Sheba's ship. The footage wasn't that great, the ship was wrecked and hard to see once it had crashed, but something nagged at him. He was also doing his best to work with the audio as well.

Remy lay next to him and watched, a small smile on his lips. He loved his Siskans very much. Seth was like a child, very innocent in spite of being very knowledgeable around technology. He had been carefully sheltered to prevent the madness that had damaged his brother, Kimble hadn't done well in the short time he'd spent out in the real world.

Gambit was about to ask a question when he heard a sound he had never expected to hear ever again. Seth had raised the volume on the sound of the battle, right as the plasma bursts were fired. The machines he was listening to didn't sound like any Earth vessels Remy had ever heard before, but he still recognized it well enough.

"Son of a bitch!" Seth cursed softly, surprising Remy a little. Seth seldom swore.

"Not so good, eh, mon petite fils?"

Seth startled at the sound of Gambit's voice, but smiled. He thought the thief had fallen asleep, he'd been so quiet. "Hey."

" 'Ey, y'self, dere, buddy. Sounds like we got some trouble."

"Recognized it, huh?"

"Bien entendu. Was 'opin' never to 'ear de sound of it again. Question is, what's it doin' 'ere?"

The two men had recognized the sound as the shrill whine of a Dognan fighter plane. "It must be Jael, but why would he crash ships like that? A sword fight right out in the open? This is a bit extreme for him. More than the usual café bombing," Seth said, thinking out loud. "I hope this isn't the beginning of an invasion."

"Don't t'ink so. Can't explain why, but it just don't seem deir style. Dey would come in bigger dan dis. It must be Jael in 'is own. P'etetre, dere was some kind a fight an' de buildin's jus' got in de way."

"Hmm. Interesting theory. Maybe it was a territorial thing."

"P'etetre, Jael done come lookin' fo' some angels, fils. 'E playin' de Game."

Seth turned to him, his eyes a little wide. "No... Wouldn't he have done that a long time ago?"

Gambit recalled the warning he'd been given of the players of the Game seeking Siskans and their angels. Jael wasn't the only one collecting. Maybe some other Dognan guy had come here challenging Jael and trying to steal his Siskans away. If this was so, then things were really heating up. Kimble would need to be protected even more than before.

"Mebbe de litte morceau de merde 'ad to consolidate 'is power, or mebbe 'e just 'ad to wait fo' de fight to come to 'im. Not too many Siskans livin' ere, y' know?"

Seth minimized the program for a moment. He'd just gotten a chime that his favorite news site had been updated. "My God..."

"Ten t'ousand dead..." Remy breathed in a pained wheeze. Ten thousand dead — at least. It had only been a few hours, but already twenty thousand more were missing. Usually the death toll from a typical Jael bombing was quite a bit lower than that. The guestimate of ten thousand dead was being optimistic.

Worse than that were the scenes of people screaming for mutant blood. As far as the public was concerned, this was mutant thing. That big cat fight on the Central Park field pretty much confirmed that.

"Maybe Jael won't come here, but those folks might," Seth offered in a frightened whisper. "They'll come and hurt us!"

Remy scootched a bit closer and gave Seth a squeeze. "Non, non, fils. Relax, Jael got all dat firepower, 'e get spanked every time 'e come 'ere. John Q. Public got none of dat. 'Fessor X got shit buried in de front yard dat'll blow up a fuckin' tank never mind all de folks we got in 'ere keepin' watch. Besides, dis room 'ere fifty feet underground, got some damn good shields on it, too. Not even one of dem nuclear bombs can bust us outta 'ere."

"I'm glad you're here," Seth said, snuggling close. He missed his Mistress and Gambit was a good substitute. Remy was always so optimistic and easy to offer comfort. He was also a damn good hugger, too.

"Me, too, fils. How about you play dat video back again."

"Okay."

They watched and listened for a few minutes longer before Remy felt a strange buzzing in his head. It was like someone was trying to talk to him telepathically, but the words were all jumbled up. He couldn't deny a note of panic there and he was instantly on guard. He turned and looked behind him. " 'Ey, where's Kim and Angel at? Dey was dere a minute ago."

"He's not there?"

"Non." Remy looked around him, but saw only the empty sleeping bags. He must have been so busy with Seth he'd never noticed that Kimble had risen and taken Angel with him. Nervous now, but not ready to panic, he hauled himself up and went to the door guard. "Kim pass by here?"

"Yeah, he went to the john. Took his kid in with him."

Remy stepped out of the open Danger Room door and peered down the hallway. The lower level was on a Yellow alert which meant everyone was down here, but that some of the more senior folks were free to mill about out here and keep the younger ones from bolting for their Gameboys. Remy crossed the hall and went to the Men's Room. He poked his head inside and saw Angel standing there, looking up at him eagerly as if she'd been expecting him. "Daddy's sick again."

The words weren't even out of her mouth before he heard Kimble cough loudly and the sound of gel hitting the water of the toilet. Siskans don't have bodily organs, Kimble didn't have a stomach. The food he ate was digested by his gel, it was why he consumed only tiny portions at a time. Siskans don't normally vomit, but Kimble did when he was badly stressed. Stressed to the point of breaking.

Remy realized now that the buzzing in his head had been a telepathic message from Angel. He'd been told she was mildly telepathic even at her young age, but it had never been directed at himself before. The thoughts hadn't been focused, it was simple distress call.

He gave her head a pat to reassure then next hobbled over to Kimble's stall. He leaned his crutches against the wall and opened the door, the pilot hadn't locked it. Remy grunted in pain and surprise when he cracked it open, he was slammed with a powerful vibration of terror that could only have come from Kimble.

**_/ He's coming! He's coming for me! _**Kimble's body was screaming. **_/ Oh, God! He's gonna kill us all. Ten thousand! Ten thousand dead! It's all my fault! He's gonna come an' kill us all an' it's all my fault! There's blood everywhere! It's all over me!_**

_Damnit! Kimble was listenin'. Should've known better!_ Remy chided himself as he shivered from the blast. He could feel his head swirling as he was struck next by Kimble's nausea.

The vibration was interrupted only by Kimble heaving again. Remy boldly took another step forward and looked inside. Kimble was scrunched around the bowl, his face flushed and his eyes glassy. His cheeks were wet with tears and he was trembling violently as if he was fevered. The gel was shimmering in the water, grey then pink, then it was gone altogether. The gel always did that once it left the heat of Kimble's body, a mystery no one could ever explain.

Remy hopped closer, holding onto the walls for support. "What's goin' on, Kim?" he asked firmly, showing his concern and demanding an answer. "Why you doin' dis?"

"T-ten.. th-thousand...!" Kimble gasped and then convulsed before heaving once more.

Remy eased down to the floor as best he could and when the Siskan was done spitting up, forcibly dragged Kimble up against him. One good thing about the gel was that it had no smell, at least Kimble didn't reek of vomit. Gambit snarled when he was hit with another wave of Kimble's panic, his friend was hysterical and teetering on the edge of panic. He squeezed the pilot brutally close and let go with a large pulse of Kundatesh, willing the Siskan to calm down.

Gambit glanced up at Angel. "Go get 'Enry in de Lab. Fast fast, s'il vous plait!"

She nodded and left.

Remy felt Kimble's hysteria come down a little, he was responding to the Kundatesh the thief had released. "You listen up now, Kim," Gambit ordered, tipping the pilot's head up to lock his eyes. "Gambit's already said dis, but he's gonna say it again. You ain't to blame fo' dis. You in de Game, but you ain't de Game, comprenez? Dis ain't about you. Jael do what 'e do 'cause 'e ain't got no soul, 'e got nuthin' inside."

"Th-they're all dead!" Kimble bawled as fresh tears poured from his eyes. "Dead!"

"Oui, an' none of your tears and sickin' up is gonna bring dem back, cher. Jael was livin' 'ere long b'fore we even met, you an' me. 'E was already up to tricks den, just as 'e is now. None of dis is about you. Dose folks was just in Jael's way. 'E woulda done it if you was 'ere or not."

Kimble shuddered and half heaved, swallowing it back down before he could spit up all over his friend. "It's so awful!"

"Oui, dat it is. But it ain't yours, cher. Not yours, not Angel's. Let it go, fils."

Kimble pushed against Remy, not able to get close enough. He let himself be petted by those gentle Cajun hands and finally relaxed, sobbing quietly as he let go of his fear with a shudder. The thief holding him calmed as well, relieved that he'd gotten Kimble down smoothly. This could have been a lot worse. Of course, it wasn't over yet.

Remy looked up as Henry came in followed by Angel. The big blue doctor leaned his head into the stall. "How is he?"

"Trashed."

"What happened?"

"Too much of de news. It more dan 'e can take. You got any of dem tonics left?"

"Right here. I thought he might need one."

Remy took the small bottle and uncorked it, pouring it down Kimble's throat. "You drink dis up, cher. Dat's better. Oui, paisible. Dere's a good boy."

Kimble swallowed it down, wanting the sweet oblivion that was to come. "Uhnnn...Angel?"

"She right over dere. You t'ink of 'er. Keep 'er in your heart. You gotta keep it together, Kim. Who's gonna look after 'er if you fall apart, eh? What's it gonna take fo' you to stop 'urtin' y'self so bad?"

Kimble sniffed, "Jael to be gone. I- I wants him dead so bad! That's wrong ain't it?" he asked with a pain filled sob. "I hates him! I hates him so bad!"

"Easy, easy, pet. You just firs' in a long line. Why you t'ink Gambit out dere workin' so 'ard, eh? Gambit wants dat too, but it a little more dan 'e can manage just now."

"Let me go. Let me go finds him. I'll kills him m'self! I gots the sword!"

Gambit couldn't help but shudder at the thought. This trembling, sickened Siskan in his arms was capable of so much good --- and so much violence. When Kimble had been out in the real world and shattered, he'd learned a thing or two about his powers. He'd been trained to create a telekinetic sword. As if that hadn't been bad enough, he'd also learned how to Channel plasma through that blade to create a super-weapon, a deadly instrument of destruction. Gambit had watched once as his dear friend used that sword to skewer and then explode one of Sabretooth's goons. It hadn't been pretty and there were times that Remy woke in a deep cold sweat from the nightmares he still had of it. Later, Sabretooth had Remy pinned and Kimble turned that sword on his Master at that time, ending the tumultuous relationship the two of them had shared. When forced to chose, Kimble had picked Gambit and for that the thief would always be grateful. Unfortunately, that event had cost Kimble dearly. He'd thought Sabretooth dead at the time and the concept that he'd killed his own Master had caused him to shatter from three personalities into four, the last time he'd broken. Gambit wasn't about to let Kimble loose only to shatter again from some unforseen happening. This Siskan was much too valuable to his heart.

Remy was quick to reassure. "Dere ain't no need fo' dat. It's all gonna turn out right, you wit de X-men and we always 'ave 'appy endings. Didn't Fallen's legends say so?"

Kimble snickered softly, too sleepy now to argue. "I guess so. She didn't tell no sad stories."

"Well, dere you go," Remy said, his hands still petting even as he felt the pilot go slack against him. Henry's tonics were powerful and Kimble was exhausted. He was no longer crying as he slipped away into a deep sleep.

---------------------

When he was sure Kimble was down for the count, Remy leaned his head back against the wall and shuddered once, a tear spilling down his cheek. The Kundatesh was a two way sword, the same way he could calm, he was forced to suffer through Kimble's internal agony. Kimble was suffering in ways he didn't fully understand, he always was. It cut right through him, down to his very soul. God, he loved this Siskan so very much.

"You okay?" Henry asked, laying a blue furry hand on Remy's shoulder.

"S-sometimes...Sometime Gambit t'inks mebbe choosin' de Lover was wrong. 'E feels too much," Remy complained, thinking back on the time he'd been forced to make a very difficult decision. At one point Kimble had four people inside of him struggling for control. It made him erratic and violent, hard to control. Remy had found the Games Master, a Dognan boy who could repair fractured 'grams. Part of the repair entailed Gambit having to chose which of the four personalities was to remain in charge forever. He chose Kimble, the Lover, for his gentleness and good heart. Unfortunately, the Lover was only a fraction of who this Siskan really was and he had emotional weaknesses because of the choice that had been made. Kimble wasn't whole and continued to suffer for it. This wasn't the first time Remy had questioned that choice.

"And who would you have instead? Lakotashay? She was suicidal," Beast said, his voice showing deep understanding. "You made the right choice."

"Mebbe Zander... 'e was so strong."

"But he felt very little. He would never have been a father to Angel and you know it. C'mon, up you go. Let's get Kimble out of here."

"We can't take 'im back to de Danger Room. Too many folks dere talkin'."

"Security is just as safe. Besides, he'll feel better there. It's small."

Remy nodded, grateful for Beast's understanding. Never had the doctor questioned his wisdom, nor denied him any requests when it came to Seth or Kimble. Henry just accepted that Remy would "know" stuff that others wouldn't. Henry was also quite fond of Kimble, finding his sentient AI endlessly fascinating. They didn't see as much of each other as they used to but the doctor was always there when Kimble broke down like this, always ready to help.

Remy lay Kimble down and let Henry bring him up to his feet. He hopped out of the stall and watched as Henry easily lifted Kimble out and up into his arms. Kimble weighed quite a bit less than he looked, he was only about nighty-eight pounds or so in spite of having the skin of a normal man. Henry was quite large and muscular, he was very strong and Kimble was like a feather in his arms.

"Is daddy okay?" Angel asked. She wasn't really fearful anymore, just concerned. This wasn't the first time she'd seen her Siskan go this far down. In her short lifetime, she'd seen him crash like this three or four times, typically after Jael had gone and blown up something large. Kimble was slipping a little more each year since the repair, this half year being the worst by far. She never seemed to worry that much, the big people always came and made him better, just like today.

Remy was thankful that she was so strong. He never had to worry about her not being able to handle it. "Oui, petite. 'E jus' real sad 'cause of all the hurtin' dat 'appen today. 'E just gonna sleep now for a bit, den 'e feel better. C'mon, let's go for a walk."

Angel smiled up at him and they followed Henry as he carried Kimble down to Security and the holding cells there. Security was actually a small lock up area where the X-men would bring any troublemakers they happened upon until SHIELD could be called to pick them up. It was also where Kimble was taken when he fell apart. It had happened several times in the eight years that Remy had known Kimble, often enough that there was always one cell set up specifically for him. It was a lock up, but it had a televison screen and a small computer for playing games. Here Kimble could be isolated and yet still entertain himself.

Henry lay Kimble down on the cot there and covered him up with the blanket. Kimble moaned something unintelligible and turned to the wall, curling up tight.

"How about you, chere? You tired?" Remy asked Angel. "Dere's plenty of room on dat cot."

"I had a nap in the big room."

"You want a movie?"

"Okay."

Remy set her up with a DVD, there was a small collection in here. Kimble hadn't been locked up like this in over a year so she hadn't seen any of them in a while. Angel snuggled up against her Siskan and Kimble rolled over, not even awake as he pulled her up close, protectively spooning his much larger body around hers. She smiled and Remy retreated, leaving her to her movie.

He didn't lock the door in case she wanted to come out. The cell had a toilet, but no privacy. She was used to being in there, she was always kept with Kimble when he was locked up and this was old hat for her. In all of Kimble's spells, he was never violent here in the lockup, Remy had no reason to fear for Angel's safety.

"I'm just going to go and send Karen in," Henry said, packing up his stuff. "She's just outside, she'll be here in a moment."

"Merci," Remy replied, his eyes still on the two figures inside the holding cell. He looked up a moment later as the Security door opened and Seth came in, his face tight with worry. Karen was right behind him, as the house shrink it was standard procedure for her to be called when Kimble was in here. With everyone quarantined to the lower level, a call hadn't been required for her to hear something was up.

"What happened?" Seth asked.

"He 'eard us talkin', fils. Just kinda freaked 'im out. 'E'll be okay, go on in if you want."

Seth went past the desk and into the open cell. He spoke softly to Angel and then sat on the floor, his back to the bed and one of her tiny hands in his. He was watching the movie now and soon giggling along with her, happy to be near her.

"What really happened?" Karen asked Remy, knowing the movie was loud enough for Angel not to hear them talking.

"Kim was upchuckin'. You know 'e only does dat when he's fucked up sumptin' awful. He was on de usual trip, t'inkin' dat everyt'ing Jael do is 'is fault. 'E knows dat what happen today is part of de Game so it extra personal dis time. Really, though? I t'ink 'e just scared to deat' Jael gonna come in 'ere an' take us all out. 'E don' feel safe. It's gettin' worse all de time and now dis..."

"In that case, you should leave him down here. If he's isolated from it all, he'll feel better. I know you want him topside living with you, but maybe it's best if he just stays locked up for a while."

Remy's eyes hardened just a little. "Dat sound jus' a little too much like yo' hubby, chere. In all dis time Logan still don' t'ink Kimble is wort' a lick."

"That's not true. If Logan didn't care, he wouldn't keep running the freaks like Grendel off. Don't be fooled, he cares for Kimble just as much as any of the kids. It's just that Kimble is always more stable when he's closed off like this. He can't run off and let somebody smack him around, he can't watch the news. It's just better."

"An' Angel? She won't leave 'im and livin' down 'ere ain't no place for no little girl."

"I don't know. Maybe if we think about it, some kind of compromise can be worked out. As it is, I don't see regular classes being held for the kids here for a few days, most of the teachers are out working at the site. It'll be all right if she stays here a while."

"I'll do whatever it takes to keep 'im happy."

Karen lay an hand on Remy shoulder. "I know you will. You've tried so hard these past years to keep Kimble in one piece. If it wasn't for you, he'd be a gibbering mess by now. It's not easy looking after the mentally wounded, I've told you this before. You've done a remarkable job. You should be proud."

"But?" Remy asked, hearing something in her tone.

"But sometimes you have to admit you've done all you can. Leave him here for a while, let him go," she said, trying to be kind. "Give him space."

"It's de space dat's killin' 'im. I tell you dis, but no one listen. He need a full time Master, not a part timer like me, nor a child like Angel."

"What are you saying?"

"Kimble need a lover. Someone to do more dan I can."

"Kimble's wrecked. The last thing he needs is a love life," Karen said in full disagreement. "He has enough trouble managing his own life."

Remy smiled and didn't reply. So many times he'd tried to explain and they just didn't get it. He'd learned that a Siskan needs constant use to maintain his self esteem, his sense of worthiness. Kimble was as good as celibate right now and that wasn't healthy. Certainly not for a Siskan as needy as Kimble was. Because of his house arrest, Kimble simply didn't get out. His reputation for being unstable was well known here and he was avoided except for those who might exploit him for their own ends like Grendel had. Remy longed for that to come to an end. He wasn't seeing it happen. How much more was Kimble going to suffer? The repair wasn't guaranteed. How long before Kimble broke again?

------------------------

Kimble was dreaming. He was in familiar place, one he'd thought lost to him long ago. He was back in the circle of light, in the ring of brightness that was his own personal Black Room. The Black Room was a place designed by Seth while the two of them still lived in Fallen's computer. It was a place of privacy where no one else could go. Kimble had a Black Room, too, deep inside of him. It was here that he'd seen ghostly images of his fractured selves.

The Black Room was an endless room filled with an impenetrable darkness except for a bright light shining down from above, leaving a sharp ring of white in the center. If you looked up, you couldn't see the source of that light, only that it never hurt to look up into it. The ring was a circle, but there were four positions there, each space occupied by a fragment of Kimble's poor shattered psyche.

He saw them now, in their chains. Here now was Lakotashay, the Quitter. She was the representation of Kimble's sense of self loathing and bitterness towards a world that simply refused to accept and understand him as he was. The air above her was swirling with dust as though she had moved but had gone still. She had stirred some from Kimble's rough time in the bathroom, but Remy's love had quieted her. For the moment, this most dangerous of Kimble's personalities was asleep, which was a good thing. She was the one who had murdered, she was the reason Kimble was currently under house arrest. Her chief motivations had been suicide, believing themselves not worthy of anyone and therefore, not worthy of life. Many times she had begged the others to kill them, but no one was up for it. She had murdered in an attempt to force the humans around them into doing what the others could not. So far, her calls for a death penalty hadn't had results and it was just as well she was asleep. She was presented as a nude thirteen year old girl, the favorite skin of Kimble's first real Master, Sheyman. She was covered in filth and grime and stunk like the sewer. Her name was the Siskan word for the most foul and evil thing imaginable. She was Dog Shit, she was Vomit, she was Putrescence. She was Untouchable.

Beside her was the Punisher. He was Kimble's strength and power and was presented as a fine Clan warrior, long dangling ponytail and broadsword included. He was also Kimble's wrath. His anger was shown by his having a face that was a shattered mirror. At the moment he was awake and calm, sitting at ease in his chains. He smiled his jagged, shattered smile at Kimble and greeted, "Hey there, Kim. Long time, no see. How's tricks?"

Kimble was in his own corner, the Lover. Unlike the others, he was currently in control of the body and wasn't chained. He was merely in his designated spot. He smiled in spite of the strangeness of this. Oddly, he felt comfortable here as if he'd missed it somehow. "Been better, Zandy."

"**_We done bad things b'fore and now we's doin' them again,"_** came a soft Siskan whisper from the fourth spot on the edge of the circle. It came from tiny Lin, the Confessor. Lin was tiny pilot child wrapped up tight in a blanket so that only his small white face and hands were visible. He was little more than a toddler, about four or so and only spoke his dire warnings in Siskan. His voice was sluggish and sleepy, he wasn't fully aware...but he was stirring. He wasn't dangerous like 'Shay, he wasn't suicidal, but felt they should hide themselves away before they hurt anyone else.

" 'S that true, Kim?" Zander asked, conjuring a cigarette from thin air and lighting it with a pop of plasma from his fingertips.

"Remy don't think so."

"But?"

"Ten thousand dead cuz 'a Jael...cuz 'a us."

"Cuz of the Game, kid. Not us. Yer Cajun pretty boy's right on that score."

Kimble just looked at him square and asked, "Why am I here, Zander?"

"Cuz that last little tidbit ya threw out in the bathroom caught my attention. Not yer pukin', mind ya. That was just plain pitiful. It was thing about usin' the sword again."

"Sword's dangerous. We use it, we break. That's what happened before. Lin came from you usin' it on the Master."

"That ain't 'xactly right. It came from us usin' the phone, but I don' wanna git inta that right now." Long ago, when Kimble was in the possession of that monster Sabretooth, a phone call had caused him the worst beating in his life. It never left Kimble and even after all this time, Kimble wouldn't come close to a phone or anything like it. What Zander didn't want to acknowledge of course was that he'd been the one who prompted Kimble to use the phone in the first place. Much later, after Sabretooth had been beaten Kimble within an inch of his life for the use of that phone, Zander had gotten his revenge on Sabretooth and skewered him with the sword, nearly killing him. "What I wanted ta say wuz that I wuz real keen on you usin' the sword to rip ol' Jael a new one, what do ya say?"

Kimble shivered a bit, nervous now. When it came down to it, he wasn't sure he was up to his fine boast. That had been his frustration talking. He hadn't used the sword once since they'd been repaired. For all the attacks on the Mansion, no one had come within sight of his precious Angel. In fact, the only time he usually found out anything had happened at all was well after it was all over. Jael's people pretty much sucked and the X-men were well entrenched here.

"I don' know, Zandy. It's been a real long time fer me."

"Heh! Too long! I wonder if ya even remembers how."

"I do!" Kimble protested, not liking Zander's tone.

"Fine. Show me."

Kimble frowned and raised his hands. He squinted and concentrated, smiling with satisfaction as the air around his hands began to change. The air became hard and crystalline, forming into a long broadsword just like Zander's. He grinned at the Punisher, proud. "Toldja."

"Good, good. Now fire that puppy up."

Kimble did as he was instructed. He charged the blade with plasma and watched in satisfaction as it burst into orange flames.

"Now, kin ya use it if ya hafta?"

"I guess so."

"There ain't no 'guess so's here, boy. Either ya gots the courage or ya don't."

"She's my Angel. I'd do whatever's got to be done fer her."

"Then let's go, Kim."

"Go where?"

"To kick Jael's ass!"

"We don' even know where he's at."

"That's easy enough. Just let one of his stooges pick us up. They'll take us right there. 'Grams don't fight, they ain't got no guts, that's what all the Masters think. Let's give that fucker a little surprise! Let's show him we ain't gonna takes his shit no more!"

"It's too dangerous, Zandy. I cain't leave m' Angel behind."

"**_We kin looks after her here if we keeps it small,"_** Lin whispered in his tiny Siskan.

"That's chicken shit and you knows it, Kim," Zander complained.

"Maybe so, but I cain't leave her. It's safe here in the holding cells. I kin just stay here awhile. They'll lets me stay as long as I want."

"**_It's better this way, Zander," _**Lin said, becoming more awake. **_"Kim don't need no more fightin'. That's hurtin' and kilding. That's 'gainst the law." _**

Kimble agreed. "It's probably fer the best, Zander. Fer the now anyways."

Zander snorted in disgust and crushed out his cigarette. "You disappoint me, kid," he said to Kimble. "But ya know what? Whatever. You go on an' keeps hidin'. When it comes to it, I'll be there ta deliver, don't you worry. I'm all done with us bein' some stupid Siskan doormat. I ain't gonna let none of Jael's fuckups touch our Angel, just like I ain't gonna let no one push us around no more. Just you wait and see."

"You ain't takin' me over, Zander. It just ain't gonna happen sos fergit it!" Kimble challenged, instantly furious at the suggestion.

"Oh, don' you worry 'bout that, kid. I don't hafta takes ya over ta git my way."

"What the fuck does that mean!" Kimble snarled, rising defensively.

Zander just grinned his malevolent smile. "Keep up yer shit an' you'll find out soon enough."

"Nnoo!" Kimble screamed in fury and woke abruptly on his cot, drenched in a cold gel sweat.

Remy was at the door in an instant. "You okay, Kim?" It hadn't escaped his notice that Kimble's outburst was one of anger and not fear. "What you dreamin', buddy?"

Kimble sat up and wiped his face. "Nuthin'," he grumbled, still upset at Zander's threat. It was all a stupid dream, that was it. It didn't mean anything. It wasn't real. His other selves weren't real. Not anymore.

Remy came closer and touched him gently, 'reading' him for himself. "You shakin' like a little kid been in de pool too long. Dat ain't nuthin' to me."

Kimble leaned into Remy's hand, enjoying the warmth of it. "I'm okay, really. Just still spooked is all. Where's Angel?"

"She in de little gym just over dere. She like de treadmill."

The Security area was its own self enclosed area. It had four cells and a separate showering area. It also had a small gym so that prisoners could be exercised without being removed from the secure area. It had a couple of treadmills and a weight bench. Angel liked the treadmill because it had a large TV screen that showed landscapes or cartoons if she wished.

Kimble nodded. "Good. 'S tough fer her ta be cooped up in here."

"She like it just fine, pet. She happy anywhere you are."

Kimble looked up at him. "I wants ta stay in here. It's small an' safe. Jus' 'till alla this blows over."

"Dat's a good idea," Remy agreed, happy that Kimble had brought it up. "Nobody gonna care. Gambit will stay 'ere wit you. You jus' missed yo' brother. Set' just went down to de lab wit Henry fo' sumptin'. He be back in a few. You won't be all alone, je promets."

"Thanks."

"You want anyt'ing? Soda, mebbe?"

"Yeah, a Coke would be fine."

"C'est bien. Gambit be right back."

Kimble nodded and watched him go. He wouldn't tell Remy about the dream, he didn't dare. Gambit worried too much about him as it was. He'd work it out, he'd find a way. There was no way Zander or any of the others were going to be allowed to take over, not like before. He would die first.


	5. Chapter 5

(Five)

The evacuation to the Arizona Complex was not something that could be done quickly, safety precautions had to be taken. Kimble was just as vulnerable there as here until the last of the main security systems were on line. The complex was still being built and it would take a couple of weeks or more to get his quarters arranged and his stuff all packed up. Gambit and Molly were sent on daytrips to Arizona to get all of that arranged, being flown there and back again by Fallen in her speedy Lucky Dragon. She could make the trip in a half hour, the fastest transportation available.

During that time, the Mansion remained on high alert with a large compliment of X-men on patrol. There had been no incidents of violence against the Institute, but that could change at any time. Not everyone knew this was a haven for mutants and Charles was looking to keep it that way for as long as possible. As it was, a SHIELD representative was sent to look in on Kimble and make sure he was still safely incarcerated, something not entirely unexpected. It made the Professor's discretion all the more reasonable. Now they would be left alone awhile, something Charles was counting on. He wanted to sneak Kimble off to Arizona without being watched.

Kimble spent his days remaining in the holding cell, keeping eerily quiet. He slept a lot, something he often did when he was trashed and didn't move about much. He stared off into space, sometimes moving his lips as though in silent conversation, but when questioned about it, offered no answers. He was cross and irritable, sometimes snapping at those folks just trying to help him.

Remy didn't like it and had him watched for signs that he was breaking. So far nothing was readily apparent, he didn't change his voices or act strangely. Gambit meanwhile had graduated from crutches to a leg brace and a cane, happy for a little more mobility. Henry commented on how pleased he was with Remy's recovery, he seemed to be healing faster than he expected, something that wasn't readily explained. He was thinking perhaps the break wasn't as bad as he'd originally feared.

Angel stayed with Kimble down in the holding cells, being taken out for only short periods of time when Kimble was sleeping. Most of the kids were still being kept in the lower levels for safety as well and she played with them for some exercise. She didn't stay long before asking to be brought back to her father, not wanting to be too far from him for long.

The cleanup in the City was still ongoing. Things had been sped up considerably because of co-operation from the rest of the mutant community outside of Xavier's, but the tragedy was still fresh. It seemed as though the full ten thousand and more were dead or missing. It had renewed talk of registering mutants and putting them away into special containment camps though so far, nothing had officially been said. Charles just shook his head. Didn't they see that by forcing the mutants to band together that they were only encouraging factions to build?

There was safety in numbers ...and mischief as well. There had been rioting and bands of humans working together as death squads to hunt down innocent mutants that resembled the pair that had been fighting in the Park. Several mutants had already been killed but the police were unable – or unwilling -- to stop it.

Jael himself was quiet, seemingly siting back and watching all of this with a controlled curiosity. In spite of SHIELD's renewed efforts, the mysterious terrorist couldn't be located. Wherever he was, he was hidden well from prying eyes.

---------------------------------

Jael lay on his bed, the tiny body of his precious Star still draped over him. This Siskan had meant it when she said she knew how to please. She might have been small in her body, but she received him willingly and performed any task he'd asked of her. More than that, he could still feel the warm tingle of her power coursing through his body, making him feel young and invigorated. He would rest a minute and then take her again. Regenerator, indeed. She was magnificent.

"Bring me a drink, my dear," he purred as he shifted to get more comfortable. The bed was large and covered with soft furs and thick blankets. "There's some wine just over there."

"Yes, Master."

Star rose to obey, her slim body not showing any of the signs of the wear that she felt on the inside. At first she had been grateful her new Master was a man, she preferred to serve a male, especially one as strong and powerful as this one. The bigger, the better. But she could soon see the effect her Kundatesh was having on him. Her power wasn't like the others, she was a Rogue and as such, her powers were not clearly defined. Her Kundatesh was intoxicating and exhilarating, mainly because it had the ability to heal. Her new Master was an aggressive man, he was very active and as such injured himself frequently. He'd been spending a lot of time with her now, sensing on some level that she was in fact repairing him and filling him with even more energy. He was like a kid again and it made him lust after her with a deep, burning fire. She appreciated the use, but her new Master was a hard and cruel man. It tainted his shine and made her queasy. Of course she said nothing of this, she wanted only to please him and survive.

**_We must escape!_** said a tiny voice inside her head. This was Luma, the Protector. Like Kimble once had been, Star was shattered. She had three personalities active and trapped in her tiny body, more than she could stand at times. All of her fractured selves were female, a unique situation for a Kintay du Lushna-esk. Most of the more powerful 'grams preferred to be male, but not her. She was strong enough just as she was.

_We wuz made to serve, so we'll serve,_ Star replied firmly. _This is how it is. Maybe someone'll come and takes us away, be good ta us._

**_It's too big in here!_** Kinta complained next. She was the Fearful and liked to be kept away small. Sheba, their former Mistress, hadn't liked this Rogue 'gram and used her only for healing. Most of the time Star had been locked away and that suited Kinta just fine.

_The Master will tire of us soon. They all do, little one. It won't be long now,_ Star said, trying to soothe. It was best if her sister personalities were calm. An outbreak of violence would only get them killed.

In the short two weeks that she'd been here, almost all of Sheba's thirty or so 'grams had been destroyed, something that horrified Star beyond belief. When she first learned of it, she'd collapsed into tremors and Jael was forced to place her in confinement, isolating her away from what was happening. He didn't try to explain or justify his behavior, but his shine had told her enough. This Master had no love for his Siskans, he was collecting them only for their power. He took their angels and put them into the machine. Jael was busy now, assembling all of the pieces Sheba had left for him as he attempted to create his powerful Shalayesk weapon. He would then make love to the new Siskans he had won and afterwards would only keep those that had some special talent he liked. Those that didn't qualify were taken away and bled out with no energy to revive them. Siskan Courtesans were almost immortal if well cared for, the Ristle energy created by the pilots could sustain them almost indefinitely. But a Siskan could bleed to death, especially one with no special powers that couldn't defend itself. The thought of it chilled her.

While she was isolated, Jael came to visit his precious Rogue. He would never have put up with her hysterics and upkeep if he hadn't become so addicted to her Kundatesh. She was an emotional roller coaster and she required plasma to feed, something new to him. None of his other Siskans were like that. Still, she was worth the trouble.

It wasn't always so pleasant for Star. As Jael lay with her again and again, his evil thoughts seeped into her, making her sick. Jael was cheating at the Game. He was destroying those Siskans he thought were extra or meaningless. It wasn't exactly against the rules, but it was an immoral and sinful act. It betrayed his callousness and disregard for their sentiency. He didn't care that they were very aware of what was going on. They were simply possessions for him to use or destroy as he saw fit.

Jael soon tired of having to go to the isolation cells to visit Star and so had her permanently moved to his private rooms. It kept her out of the harem and away from the slaughter. He hoped this would keep her stable and make her more ready to serve him.

Star hated him. She hated him with all her heart. Her other Masters had been cruel in that they never recognized her as a real creature, as a lover to be treasured. That had hurt enough, but this? How could she forgive the wholesale slaughter of her brothers and sisters? Remy had learned long ago that all of the Siskans in the Game had been made from a single clutch by the Siskan Master Quishnalay. As such, most of the 'grams considered themselves to be siblings and often formed strong attachments to one another, some even going as far as to form pair bonds and becoming loving soul mates. Jael had made sure to put those of Sheba's 'grams foolish enough to pair up to death immediately. Jael believed that a Siskan should think only of its Master, he wouldn't share. Sheba had such a large harem that there had been several pairs. They had been dragged off, screaming. The thought of any of her kin being put to death so senselessly tore at poor Star's heart.

Star's hands began to shake with rage as she poured the wine, her angry thoughts swamping her. She ached for the strength to kill him, but it was against her programming. She knew it would shatter her again and there were too many inside of her already. She took a deep, calming breath and steadied herself. Soon this would be over, she prayed. It had to be!

Jael was blissfully unaware of any of her thoughts. He smiled at her as she came to him with his glass. He was feeling generous and so let her have a sip to sweeten her mouth. Just the sight of her walking towards him had refueled his lust and he was eager to taste her again. He drank from the cup and then pulled her down for a kiss.

Star disliked this task. His mouth was full of sharp teeth and fangs, frightening her. He seemed to like it, though, the deep kiss of a Siskan. He was playing all coy now, batting his large cat's eyes at her. He tipped the glass of wine and spilled some on himself on purpose, pulling her head down. He wanted her to lick it up. She obeyed, never complaining as he made the trail of wine continue down his belly to his groin, grinning greedily all the while. She did as she was told, closing off her mind. She dreamed a happy dream, of serving a large man such as this, but one that loved and cherished her. One who would touch her with undying passion and joy at having her serve him, not because she was his slave, but because she was his soul mate, his only love.

Star jerked slightly when she heard a soft knock at Jael's door. Her Master growled deeply in anger, slapping her with his vibration of frustration. He was educated enough about Siskans to know that his emotions could hurt her but he just didn't think about it. He sat up, rudely shoving her aside. "This had better be good!" he snarled.

"My Lord," Razel replied nervously from behind the closed door. "Sabretooth has been found."

Jael's anger quickly dissipated and he rose, reaching for a silken robe that had been draped over a chair nearby. No such covering was provided for Star, she was left naked and tossed aside on the bed, forgotten. She kept silent and crawled under the blankets, pulling them up tightly around her. She didn't feel much better about Razel and didn't want his eyes on her. So far she hadn't been permitted to serve anyone else besides the Master and she wasn't complaining. They were all thoughtless and cruel here.

Jael came to the door and opened it, gesturing for Razel to enter. "Where is he?"

"Afghanistan. He's been calling himself Kris Talay. Made it harder to track him down."

"Not Kris Talay. Kristalay. One word. It's Siskan for "Golden Hair"," Jael corrected kindly. "Kimble was calling him that, I believe. Funny that he should hang on to that. I thought he was brainwashed. What was he doing there?"

"Working for a SHIELD splinter cell called the Cleaners, hunting for Bin Laden."

Jael grunted. "Bin Laden? Figures. Such talents wasted. Creed would be better off working for us. I'd like to arrange that."

Jael had a large agenda, one with many items of unfinished business. Years ago, he'd paid Victor Creed, the infamous Sabretooth, to hunt down Kimble and bring him here. Creed snatched him all right, but then the unspeakable happened, Victor fell in love with Kimble instead and kept him for himself. For this Jael would never forgive. It was Sabretooth's fault that Kimble wasn't in his possession now. Sabretooth had been taken in by SHIELD for execution on behalf of the many hundreds he had murdered, but Creed had mysteriously disappeared within that organization, snapped up by black ops, no doubt. Jael's resources were global and vast. Others were looking, the X-men in particular, but it was Jael who had now at last found the wayward killer. He would have his revenge and more. He had a special purpose for Victor Creed, oh yes.

"I want him collected," Jael ordered. "It's about time he pays back what he owes me."

A long time ago, Jael had hired Sabretooth to bring Kimble to him. That had failed. Not only had Sabretooth not completed the work, but the arrogant bastard had kept Kimble for himself, losing him only when the X-men recaptured Kimble and brought him back home. Jael hadn't been able to recover him since. Afterwards Sabretooth had disappeared and stayed out of Jael's vengeful reach. Until now.

"Yes, my Lord," Razel replied and made to depart. He paused at a grunt from his master. "Yes?"

"Have Grog brought to the machine. I think a test will be in order." Jael had been busy, putting some of the pieces of his machine together and it hadn't taken him long to see that one of the items he was constructing was some kind of gun. Unsure of just what kind of gun it might be, it was best to have a trial before deciding whether or not to use it on Sabretooth. It wasn't any good to him if it didn't inflict any real pain or damage. "Their mutations are similar, are they not?"

"Yes, Master. As if they were kin."

"Fine. Gather an audience then, this should be entertaining."

"As you wish," Razel said with a bow and left, a smile on his face.


	6. Chapter 6

(Six)

Almost three weeks after the Central Park Disaster, Kimble and Angel were moved into the new Arizona complex. All their belongings were packed with care into the Lucky Dragon and Fallen flew them over. Fallen had become the new official moving service since she could make the distance in only a few minutes. She loaded up Kimble's stuff and sat him in a seat, watching him nervously as they traveled. She could see he was upset at the move. Kimble was nervous and edgy the whole flight there, chewing on his nails and fidgeting. He had never handled change well on a good day, never mind a move as big as this.

As they began to land, the Lucky Dragon's large viewing screen gave them a good look at their new home. The Complex looked small from the outside. It was a simple two story office building with bright shiny windows. It was a lie, most of the Complex itself was underground and hidden from view. The upper building was located on a large strip of dry land, green grass around the building growing only from the grace of the sprinkler system already in place. They were landing on a large airstrip that had been here when Charles bought the place, it was long enough to accommodate the Blackbirds, mainly because they had the ability to land while hovering. There were some small outbuildings that serviced the airstrip and a large loading dock with some trucks nearby.

Beyond the buildings was a strip of red colored, rocky mountains that gave some shelter to this Industrial Park. Beyond that was a vast scrub desert with nothing else around for miles. This Industrial Park had been designed for its privacy and it gave just that.

Remy and Molly were there at the landing to greet them when they offloaded. Gambit had a lot more stuff to move and he and Molly had come a few days beforehand to get things squared away. They would fly over and spend the day in Arizona and then come back in the late afternoon so that Kimble wasn't left alone too long. They had chosen an apartment with another empty flat across the hallway so Kimble would be very close. After years of sharing a single apartment, Remy was ready to have more privacy and he hoped Kimble wouldn't be too put out about it. Gambit hadn't told Kimble about the changes in their living arrangements, he had decided to wait until the last minute to tell Kimble what was going on, not wanting to have him upset back at the house. He might take off and be hard to find, at least here the place was so new, Kimble wouldn't dare leave his sight.

Remy had asked Karen to be here with him and Molly when Kimble arrived. He had an idea Kimble would be upset with all the changes and he thought her presence might be helpful. She was happy to help out and here she was, a cheerful smile on her face to help set Kimble at ease. She made pleasant small talk as the baggage was off loaded the Dragon and sent on ahead of them by porters to their apartments.

They were also given badges. This place was obsessive with security they were to learn. Each level had its own panels the cards had to be swiped through. The higher your place in the organization, the deeper within the complex you would be allowed to go. New arrivals with almost no clearance were housed within the actual office building itself, while firmly established members like themselves could go all the way down, top clearance. Kimble was all the more pissed to learn that he would be housed three levels down, he would have to travel some distance to get to the outside and sun himself. Remy explained that they were housed the deepest in for the most protection. He was trying to make it sound as if this was the most wonderful place in the world.

Kimble wasn't having any of it. He was cranky and irritable, walking on a razor fine edge of tension. He'd been this way since Jael attacked and it was getting worse. He could tell Remy was hiding something and he was instantly distrustful. His mood didn't improve as they made their way to their new apartment. This Complex was huge, many times bigger than the Institute and it seemed to swallow him up. He didn't do well with big spaces and he was getting overwhelmed. Since their quarters were located underground it took some time to get there. Kimble was hopelessly lost, too upset by the changes to try and use his near perfect memory to recall their route.

Angel sensed her Siskan's distress and tried to comfort him, holding his hand in an effort to bring out his defensive nature. It was working, but not the way she had intended. The farther they got, the more he seemed to shrink in on himself, stooping over and growling in fear and anger at every new noise. He kept very close to her, his hands constantly on her as he reacted to his new surroundings. After a few minutes he had Angel up in his arms as if he would just take off with her at the slightest noise. The complex was still under construction and there was a lot of equipment and supplies being moved about.

Remy didn't like the growl, it was low and deep, something that reminded him of Zander. Kimble was going defensive, hyper-defensive. He hoped that once they got to the apartments, Kimble would calm down. He had so much for Kimble to know and understand, it would be so much harder if he was too angry to listen.

At last they arrived at Remy's apartment and then the thief cautiously dropped his little bombshell. He moved Kimble away from his own door and took him across the hall to the space that would be his and Angel's to share. He dragged Kimble inside and spread his arms expansively, "See, Kim? All dis is yours now."

The apartment was generous for here, a two bedroom flat with a large combined livingroom and kitchen area. Not all the apartments here were as nice as this and he'd had to use all of his negotiating skills to wiggle two such apartments right next to each other. The complex was filling up and space was being conserved, the apartments could only be so big for now. This apartment was fully furnished and supplied with dishes and everything else Kimble and Angel would need. The boxes that Kimble had brought with him had been delivered and were waiting in the livingroom to be unpacked.

"What?" Kimble asked, choking on the word as he tried to take it all in.

"All dis fo' you an' Angel. She bigger now, it's about time you an' 'er 'ad yo' own space."

Kimble shook his head. "No! This ain't what ya said! You said we wuz all gonna stay together!"

"We are. Me an' Molly just across de way. We right dere."

"B-but what about breakfast an' all the other eatin's? We do everathin' tagether!"

"There ain't no reason that we can't eat together, eh? Just dat me an' Molly, we need more space, comprenez? Dere's other reasons too if you just take a minute to listen ---"

Kimble moved away. "No! This ain't hap'nin!"

He started to walk out, to go to Remy's door in a pushy show that he would have his way, but he was gently grabbed by the arm and firmly held in place. "Non, Kim. E'coutez-moi, s'il vous plait. Dis yo' place now," Remy said, being very stern about this. "You just calm down dere now and t'ink on it. Everybody 'ere got deir own space, now you do, too. We just across de hall, not a million miles away."

Kimble jerked away, instantly furious, and used his telekinetic power to move Gambit back a pace. He lashed out with the Kundatesh, his words filled with pain and anger, **_/ You done this on purpose. Yer gittin' rid of me, just like evraone else done! Yer love is a lie! You hates me!_**

Remy swallowed his anger, instantly pissed that Kimble would say something so cruel. He knew the emotionally immature Siskan didn't mean it, it was just another attempt to manipulate him into giving in. It wasn't going to work. "Kim, why don' you just look de place over, eh?" he asked, an edge of frustration to his voice. "I'll jus' bet Angel wants to see 'er room."

"You bet, Uncle Remy! This place is neat!" she said with her usual enthusiasm and tugged on Kimble, pulling him down the short hallway to the bedrooms. She wanted to see which room was hers. She wasn't oblivious to her father's distress. She knew that her enthusiasm usually cheered him so she was louder than usual, hoping to infect him with her good spirits. Kimble followed obediently, saying nothing as she squealed with happiness when she saw her room. Gambit and Molly had taken a lot of time to pick out her furnishings and the place was full of toys.

"You boys all right?" Karen asked Remy after Kimble had moved away. She hadn't wanted to interfere, knowing their bond was so close, but she could see Kimble was still upset. His body was stiff as he was tugged along, his wings high and tight.

"Oui, chere. He just gonna need to adjust, is all. Dere come a time when de child gotta get off de tit, y' know? Time fo' Kim to grow up."

Molly came up behind him and gave him a squeeze. They'd talked about this at length and she had anticipated Kimble's response. None of this was a surprise. **_Let's just give him a minute, okay?_**

Remy nodded and said, " 'Ey, Kim. We gonna be across de way. Gonna leave de door open, neh?"

Kimble was slouched in Angel's doorway and didn't even respond even though he'd obviously heard him. His face was flushed and his teeth gritted tightly. His arms were crossed and both hands fisted. Kimble was furious but didn't want to make a scene in front of the girls.

Remy sighed with impatience. He turned to Molly. "You an' Karen go. 'Ave a cup of tea. Gambit will be dere in a minute."

"You sure?" Karen asked.

"Oui."

Karen and Molly left, knowing that if anyone would get Kimble to settle down, it would be Remy. This wasn't the first time Kimble had put up a fuss and had to be shown he wasn't going to have his way. At least he was merely sulking, there had been times in the past when he'd become violent. Karen didn't feel nervous about leaving them alone.

Remy moved down the hallway, taking the other half of the doorway Kimble was sulking in. The Siskan wouldn't look at him, he kept his eyes on Angel who was gleefully looking over her new toys.

Remy bumped Kimble gently with his cane. "Dis ain't so bad as it seem, Kim. You 'ang on, cher. Gonna get Molly and Karen situated across de way, den I come back 'ere wit you. 'Elp you unpack. We got some t'ings to talk about."

"Fuck you!" Kimble snarled softly so that Angel wouldn't hear. He moved away to where Remy couldn't reach him and flashed his teeth as he ordered, "Just git out!"

Gambit sighed and looked at Angel. "Angel, chere? Let's go. Gonna take you 'cross de way to my place. Me an' Kim gotta talk," he said, holding his hand for her. "Big people time now. Grab a coupla toys to take wit you, eh? Dere's a good girl."

Angel looked up at him, her big eyes questioning the situation around her. She saw Kimble's barely restrained fury and chose to obey, the child seeing the wisdom in Remy's face. She grabbed a couple of things and let Remy lead her away across the way to where Molly was waiting.

---------------------

Remy returned a few minutes later, not sure what to expect. The movers had spread out some of the stuff Kimble had brought into the livingroom and there were boxes everywhere, surprising him at just how much Kimble had been able to cram into the one room he'd had back at the Institute. He saw some boxes labeled "Kimble's art stuff". He knew Kimble still liked to draw and sketch, but hadn't figured the pilot possessed enough stuff to fill a box of that size. It was still sealed shut and Remy respected his Siskan too much to just open it without being asked.

Kimble had moved Angel's boxes of toys and clothes into her room and was standing there in perplexed anger. For years he'd shared a room with his daughter, now they would be sleeping separately. Remy had arranged this room and the bunk beds didn't come along with them. Another decision taken out of his hands. In his hands he held a stuffed toy, his fingers around the poor bear's throat, squeezing and releasing in a murderous, unconscious movement.

"Dis ain't so bad as you t'ink, cher," Remy whispered, sensing the Siskan's potential violence. It wasn't true that Kimble's breakdowns were free from ugliness. There had been trouble in the past, but had been mostly directed towards non-sentient objects. On one of the occasions that Logan had removed one of his abusive lovers, Kimble had totally destroyed one of the Professor's large trees. It wasn't clear who'd wrecked the large oak so thoroughly until closer inspection revealed several crystalline spikes lodged deep within the wood, a sign of the depth of Kimble's anger. Of all the telekinetics at the Institute, Kimble was the only one who made the spikes. He created the spikes the same way he created his sword and it was as good as a fingerprint, one that earned him a few days stay in the Security holding cell. Once locked up, Kimble was fine. All of his violence and rage had been inflicted on that poor tree. After he'd been told how old the tree was and how cherished it had been, Kimble wept, horrified at what he'd done. He was unconsolable until Remy had him outside planting ten new saplings in its place, hoping to teach the Siskan that violence only led to more suffering but that redemption was available to those who worked hard to make amends.

Back in the here and now, Remy was concerned. Kimble had no outlet here for any sudden surges in violence. It was best to just get him talking. Once he'd heard what he had to say, hopefully Kimble would calm down.

Kimble turned to face him now, his eyes wet but not yet spilling over with angry, resentful tears. His hands clenched tighter around the stuffed animal, threatening to tear it open. "Angel's so far away. Yous are all so far away."

"We be right across de 'all, Molly n' me. Dat's not so far. You yell, we gonna come runnin'."

Remy stepped closer but Kimble jerked away, throwing up a shield to block him. Another low and dangerous rumble left his throat. "You jus' stay back now. You made yer point, dumpin' us."

So pleasant this, arguing with a telekinetic. They could always have the last word if they wanted it. It was rare that Kimble used his power against him and it only proved that Kimble was furious.

"Easy, cher. You worry so much over nuthin'," Remy soothed, hoping that the 'us' meant Kimble and Angel and not a plural reference to himself. Lakotashay had been brutally violent and spoke of herself in the plural. Long ago he'd been told that Kimble's repair was tentative at best. So far none of the personalities had showed up on their own and he prayed it wasn't happening now. "Nobody's dumpin' nobody here."

"Eh? Jus' whats we's suppozta thinks? This place ain't safe! It's so big inside! You wants Jael ta takes us, yer sick of us already! You hates us!"

Gambit took a step closer and chose to let Shi'ow-ri speak for him before this got totally out of hand. The nice thing about Kundatesh was the honesty. He let go with a vibration of his own feelings, resentful of Kimble's childish outburst.**_ / How come whenever you don' get yo' way, it's always "Gambit don' love me!" Damn, you so selfish sometimes! Don' you ever say Gambit don' love you! Not now, not ever! 'Ow dare you! Not after eight years of puttin' up wit yo' crap! You ain't no picnic and you know it, but Gambit still 'ere takin' care of you as always! Do you 'ave any idea how much work it took to get two nice flats like dis right next to each other? If I didn' want you around, I'dve put you on de other side of de buildin', dumbass! Get over y'self already!_**

Kimble shivered and wilted some. The shield he'd erected couldn't stop the vibrations and he'd heard every word. He also knew that the Kundatesh couldn't lie. He'd been too close to Remy for this to be so. He saw himself now as Remy did, a hyper-reactive child who'd lost his temper before the thief could fully explain his motivations. He let go of some of that anger with a sob, feeling horrible and stupid now. Sometimes it just seemed like he didn't understand anything anymore.

"You ready to listen to me now, cher?"

"I don't wants to be all alone."

Remy was very much aware of the reason behind Kimble's anger -- the Siskan was terrified and had been ever since the Central Park Disaster. He was scared to death of this new place and he just needed reassurance that he would be safe. In a calm, even voice now, Remy tried to soothe once more. "You never alone, Gambit always 'ere wit you."

Kimble desired proof. He stood up and dropped the toy he'd been mangling. He dissolved the shield he'd raised and turned towards his friend. They met in a kiss, first slow, then growing more passionate. Kimble's hands found Remy's cheeks and he let go with a strong pulse of Kundatesh, his body screaming desire and a strong need for physical comfort. **_/ You say yer not leavin' me? That you still loves me? Proves it! Proves it now!_**

Gambit couldn't help but accept and grant his wish, this was a dance they'd danced many times before. **_/ D'accorde, cher. Gambit's right 'ere. You don' ave to be afraid no more._** /

Remy was married now and did his very best to be faithful to Molly, but...but he slipped every now and again. He didn't chase other women, he backslid with Kimble. It wasn't because he desired the company of a man, it was his sense of responsibility that lured him away. He felt ownership and responsibility for Kimble, he had the moment their minds had been locked together so long ago. He felt obligated to take care of this unruly teenager like he would his own child and would do whatever it took to get him back in line. There would be an attack at the house by Jael and Kimble would falter. Rather than leave Kimble to the abuse in the flower field by his mysterious lovers, Remy sometimes broke down and offered his own services, hoping a little honest love would get Kimble's kinks worked out. It had happened only a handful times over the years, it wasn't an everyday event by any means. They'd simply meet somewhere private and have one heart busting, mind blowing, passionate collision.

Kimble thrived on these singular encounters, having his desire and taste for his former Master sated. There was no abuse, no beatings, just an explosion of passion that left them both mentally stunned and quaking. It was as if such a large burst of Kundatesh leveled Kimble out much like a grand mal seizure for a epileptic. Unlike the beatings from his mysterious lovers, Remy's offerings were much more lasting and helpful to his stability. He would be calm for weeks, sometimes months.

These passionate sacrifices Remy made were most often unplanned and Remy always felt horrible afterwards. He didn't directly apologize to Molly, but he knew she knew it when he'd come in with his eyes glassy and small. He'd have no chemical smell, but he would be stoned none the less. Remy would be swamped with guilt and he would be very clingy afterwards, buying her gifts and being more affectionate than usual.

Gambit had hoped that by moving Kimble into his own place, the temptation to fall back on this method of treatment would be easier to resist. He hadn't anticipated Kimble's slow acceptance of the extra room, the space the Siskan had shared with Angel back home would have been considered cramped by most folk's standards. Not even the first day here and already Kimble was shaking with that same old fear of abandonment. It should have been firmly established that he would never leave his friend behind, but here was the same persistent insecurity. Maybe this was some kind of payback for Grendel's removal, a reminder that all things in Kimble's life seemed to be so painfully temporary. Gambit knew he would have to give in to Kimble, it was the only way to set the Siskan's mind at ease. Remy closed his eyes and let Kimble take him, surrendering to the pilot's need.

Gambit allowed himself to be dragged back to the kitchen, a slow process where they would pause to kiss and grope some more. He was losing clothing along the way, leaving a guilty trail of evidence of his crime. He was stripped down completely by the time Kimble had him where he wanted, the Siskan still mindful enough of his injury to keep this gentle. Kimble was using his telekinetic power as well to give him support for his leg, Remy was amazed that Kimble had the concentration to prop him up and make love at the same time, but then Kimble had always been good at multi-tasking. Gambit was nervous and thrilled by all this, the kitchen was part of the livingroom, one big space, and anyone who might barge in would catch them for sure.

It had taken less time than he'd ever dreamed of to become used to this way of lovemaking. Growing up a practicing Catholic, he'd perceived gay sex as painful or dirty, but Kimble had cured him of that notion in a single session. These collisions they had were almost always the same. Kimble would be wrecked, usually angry more than sad just as he was now, demanding some verification that he was still accepted, that he wasn't the worthless piece of garbage he so often perceived himself to be. Gambit would come to him and surrender himself, giving up his body for Kimble to use. Kimble was fully aware that Remy had never given himself to another man before or since. This was a re-enactment of that very first time he'd let Kimble take him, showing the depth of his love and trust. The surrender was that important --- if he hadn't seen Kimble as desirable or worthy, it never would have happened.

Remy might protest that he was merely doing his duty, fulfilling his obligation to his strange brother, but that wasn't the only reason. When Kimble gave him the excuse he was all over it, offering minimal resistance when it really came down to it. These workouts were a blast for himself as well, nothing could come close to the way Kimble made him feel. The Kundatesh was magical, penetrating, and a mystery all to itself. These times he crossed over the border back into Kimble's territory were small blessings he cherished, gifts to himself as well. The love they shared was vast and once in while it was a trip to visit it again and let his power flow freely, making them both drunk and stupid from the rush. Almost always one or both of them would black out from the intensity of it. Once Remy had described being with Kimble as having an orgasm on crack, the Kundatesh was that wild and crazy once released. It was intoxicating and highly addictive. He'd been an intensely sexual creature even before he and Kimble had met, promiscuous enough to worry that he'd never survive monogamy. The Kundatesh had merely become an extension of that deviancy. Surprising himself and many others, he hadn't strayed far from Molly, Kimble was his only weakness. Deep inside he still wanted Kimble and always would, none of the Siskan's childish little fits had changed that.

Kimble was still a little angry and it fueled his passion, but he touched Gambit with great care. This Siskan was gentle and kind, always willing to see that Remy's his needs were met, that he was shown his sacrifice was appreciated. As it was, Kimble's desire for him was so powerful this day, they weren't going to be at this long.

Remy felt the pilot's love for him crash into him in a single blinding wave of Kundatesh, staggering him at how powerful it was. He wasn't sure if Molly loved him this much, it was obsessive and borderline insane, the depth of it. How could Kimble cope with never having him for real? He had no time to ponder that question for long. He shook hard with earth shattering orgasmic pleasure, rattling the cabinets and inviting a protest from the neighbor's next door with the noise of it. Good thing he'd chosen an apartment for Kimble across the hall and not next door, this he didn't want to have to explain this to Molly, especially since Karen was there. He was barely aware of Kimble's cries behind him as the darkness took him and they were falling, drifting down to the floor in drunken slow motion, the Kundatesh almost stopping time as it swamped them both.

He never felt it when they hit the deck, the fall had been cushioned telekinetically by his ever cautious pilot. He only knew they'd been out for a while when he woke later, Kimble's arms warm around him. There was a pleasant buzzing in his head, the aftereffects of an orgasmic blackout, a dreamy hangover from a trip Molly could never take him on. No matter how intense their lovemaking, Molly did not possess the Kundatesh. She couldn't send him around the world and black him out. She couldn't fill his veins with this liquid energy that was now coursing through him. She couldn't make him as high as this, only a Lushna-esk 'gram had this power and Kimble was that and more. He was a Rogue, a Kintay du Lushna-esk whose powers had never been fully explored.

Remy turned to his Siskan and they kissed leisurely again, the contact allowing him to read Kimble's now whitewashed mind. Kimble felt better now, he'd gotten his reassurance that he was still loved and wanted and was happy for now. He'd gotten his fix and was just as dreamy drunk as his lover. Kimble's hands touched him in gentle thanks, apologizing for his weakness, for his need to be shown time and time again.

"S'okay, cher," Remy mumbled softly, cozy here with Kimble next to him. He had laid out his clothes and his long duster jacket beneath them to keep them from the floor and it was like being in a nice warm bed. " 'S my pleasure."

Kimble rubbed his chin against Remy's chest, feeling the smooth skin there, marred as it was. Gambit was scarred there, five long deep grooves of white, a leftover from his younger, wilder days. A mark of his sinful past. He'd once led a band of killers into a cold dark place, Sabretooth had been one of them. Not content to slaughter those he targeted, Creed had turned on Remy as well, delivering a blow with his claws that should have killed the Cajun thief. By curse or justice, Remy was still alive to tell the tale. They had shrunk in thickness and faded considerably over the past few years, no longer so bold and grey as they had been when Kimble first met him. The scars marked Gambit's crime, his terrible shame. He'd overcome it and Kimble didn't see those marks now as he gently rubbed them, he was only thinking of how great his lover smelled and how fine he was feeling now.

"Why's it so important thatcha wants me here in this place?" Kimble asked after a moment.

Happy now that Kimble was finally willing to really listen, Remy began to explain. " 'Cause dis ain't de Mansion. Gambit been 'ere a few days, got a good look around. It's big ---"

"Too big!" Kimble interrupted.

"Non, non. Listen up, cher. It like a small town, it got places to go have fun dat de Mansion didn't. Dere's some places 'ere to go dancin' like you like."

"Dancin'?"

It had been a long while since Kimble had been anywhere, but Remy had not forgotten what a social creature Kimble was supposed to be. All Siskans desired constant company and use and Kimble was no exception. "Dat's right. Dere's two club's 'ere on de lower level where it's safe. All dese folks, dey X-men like us. Dey safe. Dey wouldn't 'ave clearance if dey weren't okay."

"What about SHIELD? I'm suppozta stay aways from everybody."

"De rules be changed, cher. Dis is a little like hidin' out. You been paroled, fils. Enjoy."

"You gonna come with me?"

"Mebbe de first coupla times, but listen, dis is important. Dere's folks here you can dance wit, make friends wit, **play** wit, eh?"

Kimble blinked down at him in confusion.

Remy smoothed a stray lock of Kimble's hair back into place. "Dat's right. Don't you t'ink it's time you gone out on a real date?"

"B-But I'm all fucked up. Sometimes I still feel all broked up inside."

"You dat way cause you 'angin' on to me just a little too tight, cher. Some of dat my fault. Je suis de'sole, dis our last time, cher. It has to be. Molly gonna kill me. But enough of dat, it's time for you to go out an' explore. Go dancin', 'ave fun. Fall in love ---- an' I don't mean wit somebody dat's gonna beat you all to shit neither. You need a lover bad, fils. One for real."

Kimble closed his eyes and shivered. "B-But---"

"Let me go, cher. You an' me, we bot' know what a Siskan need. He need someone dere all de time. Angel, she yo' Mistress, but not like you need. Like you want. You need dis place, dis flat. You gonna go out dere and you gonna find some friends and you gonna want a place to go where it private. Me an' Molly gonna watch over yo' Angel for you, anytime you need it. We dat close, our door is less dan six feet from yours. We put in a phone, it'll be all right."

"Cain't have no phone!"

Remy squeezed him tightly as he swallowed Kimble's vibration of pain, sighing softly in exasperation. Long ago, when Kimble was in the possession of that monster Sabretooth, a phone call had caused him the worst beating in his life. It never left Kimble and even after all this time, Kimble wouldn't come close to a phone or anything like it. "You gonna let dat go, too, cher. Dis a new place, a new start fo' you. If it make you feel better, we can put in a video phone, one wit a screen. Was gonna get one for me and Molly anyway, you know how I like dat techno junk. If we do dat, you gonna try it?"

Kimble trembled again, frightened, but Remy's offer of future freedom to play was starting to win him over. It was true the Mansion had offered him no social life at all as a sexual creature, the few times he'd gone out were all done sneaky like and it wasn't the same as serving clients for real, not like the way he was designed for. A Siskan Courtesan is little more than a private prostitute, a sentient one even more so. Kimble thought of partners as clients, lovers as Masters. A return to that life, even a partial one, appealed to the trapped Courtesan inside of him, the one that had been clambering to come out now for some time. "O-okay. If ya shows me how ta use it."

"Bien," Remy said, pleased. His relief was overpowering and he couldn't help but give Kimble another squeeze. "Now, you gotta 'elp me up and let's start unpackin'. Molly's gonna whup Gambit's ass if 'e stay 'ere alone wit you too long."

Remy was at peace now, but it was tinged with guilt. It was always this way after he'd gone and crossed the line again. He hoped Molly would forgive him, she always had before — or at least it was never discussed. It was like it never happened, but he knew Molly better than that. It hurt her every time, but she loved him too much to force the issue. He prayed that love would carry him through this transgression as well. He meant it when he told Kimble this was the last time, he couldn't take the guilt anymore. He loved Kimble, but he loved Molly more.

They rose and dressed, covering up the signs of their crime. Kimble started to unpack a little and Remy opened up the fridge, grabbing a beer. He'd seen to it that Kimble's larder was well stocked. Kimble was generously supplied with Kimble's precious Cokes and Angel's favorite Mac and Cheese. He had worked hard to get as many familiar things as he could to help put Kimble at ease.

While he drank, Gambit explained as much about this new complex as he could, wanting Kimble to understand just how safe it was here. He spoke of the protective shield generator that would be on-line in a few days and the badge system here. He promised Kimble that he'd take him back up topside in the morning to charge in the sun and that he'd show him around a little more. The nearest elevator and stairway system going up went to the airstrip. That had also been part of Remy's master plan. The airstrip was where Fallen and Seth would be if they chose to continue living in the Lucky Dragon. It was also the most private and Kimble would have a place to sun himself where he didn't feel conspicuous or exposed.

Kimble grew more and more relaxed as Remy spoke, loving the sound of his voice more than taking any real comfort from his words. He would be sure to explore this place and evaluate its strengths for himself. Right now he was mellowing, passive from Remy's Kundatesh injection and the love that still sparkled between them. He wasn't angry anymore and was regretful that he'd been so quick to push Remy's buttons like that. He kept his musings to himself, letting Remy finish up his drink and then saying goodnight. Gambit promised to bring Angel back and get them settled in.

Kimble waited patiently for his friend, taking the time to unpack their other traveling companion. Princess the cat had been brought along on this trip as well. A patient creature, she had been curled up asleep in her carrier while Kimble had his fit and was comforted. She was now happy to be free and set about exploring the place, coming back often to rub against Kimble's legs as she purred her constant rumble.

Remy returned quickly, smiling when he saw the large feline. He'd forgotten about her as well, but was happy to see she was settling in fine now. Kimble was settled down, too. He offered no more complaints or worrisome thoughts as he and Angel were tucked into bed. This being the first night, Kimble insisted Angel sleep with him and Remy wasn't going to argue. Princess jumped up on the bed and claimed her portion of space next to Kimble's head. Remy smiled and gave her fur a quick ruff before slipping away.


	7. Chapter 7

(Seven)

Kimble wasn't the only one getting settled in that night. Seth had come along with Fallen and was terribly excited. They had made this trip a great many times, but this time the Arizona complex was home and not Westchester. They primarily lived in the Lucky Dragon regardless of where he was parked, but Seth had requested a small flat near Henry's lab. He and Henry had grown quite close and Beast had suggested Seth might be useful in getting the new complex's more sophisticated systems online.

Seth and Fallen made their way down to their new flat. They were carrying bags of supplies for their new place but Seth's step was jaunty and light. He wasn't excited about the apartment so much as he was about finally seeing Henry's new lab. For weeks now he'd been leaked secrets by the big blue doctor, tidbits about the new massive supercomputer he'd helped to install. Seth couldn't wait to get his hands on it.

At last they arrived. Fallen unlocked the door and let them in. The place was small but it would serve their needs. It was a nice one bedroom flat with a large livingroom/kitchen area like Kimble's. It was fully furnished, but lacking food and drink. That's mainly what they had brought along and Seth wasted no time in getting their supplies loaded away.

Fallen watched him with amusement. She knew why he was rushing, he wanted to go to the lab right away. She herself was tired and wanted only to crash. She set a pair of Seth's power cubes on the table and gave them a good charge. She had no desire to tag along to the lab and he could put them in a bag and carry them with him.

Seth came to her after a moment. "Is it okay if I go?"

"Of course," she replied, setting the cubes in his carrying bag. "The lab is just two doors down. Don't go any farther, please. I don't want you getting lost."

"I won't," he promised, giving her a kiss. He was trembling with excitement and could hardly keep still.

She laughed at his enthusiasm and patted his head. "Be good."

"Yes, Fallen," he replied and left, eager to visit the lab. He had more than just the bag holding his power cubes. He had his laptop and his security badge. He didn't know the rules here and wasn't sure if he might get stopped. He'd heard security here was quite tight, especially around the labs. He was correct in thinking so, he needed his badge to get into the lab itself. He swiped his badge and entered, his eyes growing wider the farther in he got. He was only in the preliminary section, but already he could see machines and devices that were unfamiliar to him, always a treat.

"Well, hello there."

Seth turned and greeted Henry with a smile. The doctor was in his familiar white smock and was holding yet another door open to be explored. "I believe what you're looking for is this way."

Of course Henry was in the lab, there was nowhere else for him to be really. Henry McCoy was a solitary creature, having given up a social life in trade for his craft. He was a doctor but he was also a geneticist and a master of technology. He lived for learning and research as did Seth, the main reason they got along so well. Both were brilliant in their separate ways and often found themselves beyond where others could follow. Seth only mourned the absence of female companionship for his friend, at least he had a Mistress to go home to. Henry did not and never had in all the time they'd known each other.

Seth was quick to follow Henry's lead and soon found himself in a huge room, surrounded by hundreds of computer servers. The complex was massive and this was the very heart of the computer system that ran it. Seth was trembling even more now. This was more than he could ever have imagined, more than he had hoped for. See, he had a little plan, one he'd kept to himself for a long time. He knew that his own codes weren't complete, that the separation from Fallen's computer and from his brother had left him less than whole. When the Games Master had repaired Kimble, he'd kept a close watch on how it was done, keeping notes on what he could. He had used those scraps of knowledge to formulate a plan to repair himself, to make himself not so overwhelmed by bright lights and the emotions of others. He was mildly empathic, but not like Kimble. He had to have physical contact with someone to feel their vibrations, but it still unnerved him at times. Instead of using it to his advantage, he got swamped by it. His only defense was to keep himself isolated and he'd done pretty well. He stayed mostly in the company of machines and a few close friends.

Problem was, Seth needed a powerful computer system to run the changes on his codes. The fancy equipment the Games Master had used had gone with him and Seth had needed more than the Xavier Institute could offer to complete his plans. Here now was a chance for freedom. If he was clever enough, perhaps he could even end his dependency on the cubes. Nothing would please him more.

"She's a beaut," Seth said in admiration, looking around at this most wonderful new resource.

"That she is, my friend. And you are going to help me run her."

Seth shivered in near orgasmic ecstacy. Nothing could describe just how powerful he felt when he was at the wheel of such machines. He felt invincible, like a god. He could do anything on the Internet and no one was safe from his curious mind. He could make these machines obey his every whim, it was all a matter of persuasion.

Henry laughed at him and gave him a squeeze. "But first things first. It's important to make sure you have the proper energy to work, my dear. It's Twinkie time."

Seth beamed. One nice thing about Henry was the constant presence of those little golden cakes. Seth had come to love them very much. He followed Beast to a small table where the doctor had already set out some treats and milk. They sat and munched while Henry explained all about what this place had to offer. There was the lighting and security systems that had to be monitored. There was the shield generator that they would be working on first. Another technological miracle was the Solarium. This was a pet project of Henry's. He had a large room excavated that had a long series of mirrors that directed sunlight from above, creating a magnificent underground park. It was mostly finished, but still had some bugs. Already grass and trees were thriving as well as many planted flowers and shrubs. The main aim was to use those same principles for farming. The goal was total isolation and self reliance from the upper world if things got too hairy.

Seth couldn't wait to see it. Like Kimble, he had a strong love for the outdoors. He could also sense the unspoken message here. If Kimble could charge underground, he would be that much safer. Seth might not see Kimble as much as he used to, but his brother was on his mind a lot, especially lately. He didn't want anything bad to happen to him.

Henry interrupted his thoughts. "So? Did you like your new apartment? Mine is right next door to yours."

"Oh, yes. It's bigger than the Dragon. The bedroom I mean."

Henry chuckled softly. Seth was Siskan after all. "I'm glad you like it. Your badge is good here for all hours. You can come in here anytime you like. I made a workstation for you that is totally private."

"You are too kind," Seth replied, always humbled by the extent others went to please him.

"No, you are that valuable to us. You have given us good service. You are an X-man, Seth. I mean that."

Seth blushed and looked down. Like all Siskans, Seth craved praise and would do anything to earn it. He didn't do that sexually as did his kin, but rather by seeking out information and doing those tasks that others couldn't. He had a mind for codes, he saw things others couldn't. He didn't think of himself as an X-man, he didn't go out and fight, but he had gotten them information and connections that allowed them to do their jobs much more safely. He'd saved lives.

"Thanks. When can I get started?"

Henry laughed at his enthusiasm. "Right away."

-----------------

Molly watched as Remy returned an hour after he'd first left her with Karen, doing her level best not to break down and cry in anger and frustration. It was late and Molly had cooked a meal that he'd missed. Karen had stayed awhile to eat and then left, leaving Molly to stew here alone with Angel. She spent her time playing with the child, loving her as always, and trying her best to hide her anger, but she'd had enough. The first day they were here --- the first day! ---- and her husband came slinking in like the deceitful thief he was, his head low and his eyes glassy. He brought Angel back to Kimble and settled them in for the night. When he returned, he gave Molly some excuse about being tired and headed off to the shower and to bed, his red on black eyes not daring to look at her.

Molly knew about Gambit's continued infidelity with his Siskan. It hurt her deeply, but she took some comfort now as she always had before — it wasn't another woman he'd desired. He never went with anyone else, it was always Kimble. There were times that Molly had considered leaving Gambit, she wouldn't deny it, but her love for Remy was quite strong. Stronger than her sense of betrayal. She knew Remy loved her completely, his guilt and anguish over his transgressions was very real.

She also loved Kimble dearly. Remy had called the three of them a team once and it was true. The three of them were like three parts of one creature, each one stronger with the group than on their own. They were bonded on levels none of them truly understood. It also meant they understood each other too well and could keep no real secrets. The Siskan didn't offer an apology either for their lapses, he was too afraid of Molly's wrath and rejection, but he'd look on her at times with such regret and pain she knew it well enough.

Molly had not supported the idea of Kimble having his own place. While Remy thought it best to distance himself, Molly saw it as it making it easier for them to sneak off. This night had already proven that. At least when they had all lived together, the lack of privacy made their little trysts harder to accomplish. It happened less often. Gambit wasn't so crass as to cheat when she was around, nor would he take Kimble in their own bed. She would have been forced to kill him then! Now all Remy had to do was cross the hall and lock the door.

She knew Kimble had been upset by the move, but she'd had her fill of Gambit's form of comfort. Molly had a choice — either accept this as they way things would always be, or cut Remy off at the source. She chose this time to confront Kimble.

Molly waited until the next morning, not five minutes after Remy left her to go to work. Angel was packed off to school so Molly knew she would get the Siskan alone. He was in his new apartment, doing his best to get the last of his belongings squared away while Angel was in school and out of his way. Remy had taken him up topside to sun himself earlier and he was in a happy mood, charged now and ready to take on his day.

Molly knocked on the door and Kimble let her in, greeting her happily as always. He loved her dearly, almost as much as he loved Gambit. The three of them were quite close and he gave her a loving hug. Along with it came a vibration of deep affection, the same as she'd so often felt from her husband. She knew this was what drew Gambit here. If not for this, he would be hers alone.

Kimble took an awkward step back, sensing something in her shine. "What's wrong, baby doll?"

Molly signed quickly, getting right to the point. **_I know Remy was here last night._**

He cocked his head at her, uncertain what she was about. " 'Course he wuz. He wuz helpin' me git some of this stuff put away."

_**That's not what I meant and you know it. You and him, last night. You were doing more than just unpacking.**_

Kimble's expression changed then, oh yes. He turned away and retreated, walking slowly to the kitchen so she'd follow. He should have known this confrontation would not be put off forever, it was just that the timing was bad. He was still upset at the move and hadn't had time to deal with it mentally. Now she had dumped this on his already full plate.

He said nothing more, but opened the refrigerator and grabbed two bottles of beer. Liquor was limited in the complex, but Kimble would always be exempt. The alcohol kept him calm and a calm Kimble was always a good thing. He opened them both and set her bottle at the table. He kept his distance and leaned against the counter, his head down.

**_We done bad things,_** Lin whispered from inside. **_We hafta stops, Kim. The touchin', the lovin'. It just ain't no good no more. Evrathin' we touch turns ta shit. _**

Kimble shuddered at the sound of that voice. It was happening again, the voices whispering to him as if they had every right. They were supposed to be gone, but with each passing day since the attack it seemed like they were getting stronger. They were seeping out of his tortured dreams back into his waking life. He had to be stronger than this. He had to be!

"I'm sorry, Molly. I–I just don' knows what ta say," Kimble stammered lamely, trying to ignore Lin's soft spoken truths. "Jus'...jus' don' takes it out on Remy. It ain't his fault. It's mine."

Molly took a seat at the table and sipped her drink. She wasn't much of a beer drinker, but wanted to be polite. It was a subtle message to Kimble that she wasn't here to send him packing for good. **_I know you're upset at the move, but it has to stop. What I don't understand is why the two of you just can't stop this. It hurts me! It's cruel!_**

Kimble shivered, his body feeling her vibrations of pain like tiny little barbs all over his skin. **_We's so bad! Wicked, wicked us!_** Lin wailed, more loudly now.

_Shut yer yap! _Zander hissed, trying to stop this. Lakotashay was stirring. _Tell her the truth and she won't hurts us. Look in her eyes, Kim. She just wants ta understand. Just tells her the truth._

Kimble took a breath, happy that Molly was being so patient. He'd blanked out for a second, but she hadn't used the opportunity to interrupt. "I'm sorry, baby doll, I truly am. We don'ever means ta hurtcha. It's just that when I git so messed up in my head, he fixes it."

Molly was trying to understand. She'd seen the momentary blankness on Kimble's face, but had assumed that he was just trying to think of what to say. **_I understand that. It's why I haven't said anything until now. What I want to know is why it has to be him. You could go to anyone here for help, even Karen — it's what she's here for --- but you don't. You always go to him! He doesn't refuse you either, the bastard. I want to know why it is that he can't turn you away. I think I know, but I want to hear it from you. _**

Kimble gulped his drink down, he could never linger over a bottle, and wiped his chin as he considered his answer. He set his half empty drink down and came close to her, reaching out. His slender, white fingers brushed her chin and he let her have a sip of his powerful empathy. "It's this."

Molly had felt this before, sure. She knew Remy had this gift, but she wasn't prepared for how powerful it was in Kimble, he hadn't let her feel this much of it before. The heat of it washed through her, a liquid invisible temptation. It was intoxicating and wonderfully arousing. She could easily see how something like this might be attractive, even addictive, but she knew Remy's will was strong. He should have been able to resist this. **_Just this?_**

"Well, when I'm with Remy...someone I really cares about... and we's intimate...it's kinda of a big bang. It's real strong, stronger 'n this."

_**Show me.**_

Kimble choked a little. " 'Scuze me, baby doll?"

_**Show me.**_

"I cain'ts." Molly's anger surged and he knew it. He took a step back, retreating once more to the counter. "Yer Remy's girl. His Mistress. I cain't hurts him like that."

_**Oh? But you can hurt me, is that it?**_

Kimble shuddered and began to silently cry. This was no show of crocodile tears, Kimble could never hide anything he felt and he was the worst liar there was. His pain now was very real. "I'm so sorry. I didn't ever wants ta hurt ya, girl. You an' Remy... yous guys are m' family. Yous mean the whole world ta me and didn't ever means ta cause ya no pain. I don' ever means to...it just keeps happenin'. I'm sorry."

Molly came to him, wiping his tears away. **_I know you didn't, but I have to know. I have to know why my husband won't be faithful to me in spite of every promise he ever made to me._**

"I –I cain't. I just cain't, Molly. I'm sorry."

Molly snarled at him and slapped him viciously across the face. **_You will! You owe me!_**

Kimble was rocked by the blow, but he was instantly responsive to the pain. It aroused him as much as it hurt him, his body screaming for the punishment. She'd cut him with her claws and he was bleeding some. She came at him again, but he grabbed her wrists, turning her and trapping her against the counter so he could control her. "Don't do this, Molly! Please!"

His plea was cut off when she pushed forward, startling him with her strength. She was powerful in her own right and he had no idea of what she was capable of. She reversed the roles and broke free to capture him herself. She gripped his wrists tighter than any vise and dragged him back to her and kissed him, snatching his hair to pull him in. This hadn't been a planned thing on her part, but her anger had driven her to it. She would play Remy today, she would be the one being served and he would be the one betrayed. She would see if he liked it any better than she had. She thrust herself at Kimble, forcing the issue.

**_Don't!_** Lin howled. **_You gots ta git away! The Remy will be so angry with us!_**

The Lover was very dim now, lost in the fog of Molly's kiss and the heat of her desire. She had released him, feeling that all of his fight was gone, and he made no move now to flee. He'd wanted this, he had always wanted this. How could he not? He was Siskan and as a Siskan, making love and bringing pleasure to a loved one was the best way he knew how to express the deep love he felt inside. It was only the rigid laws of the humans around him that had stayed his hand. Now she was asking him for the very thing he'd always wanted to give her.

_Ya dumbass! _Zander grumbled. _Ya knows ya don't hafta fuck her ta shows her, right?_

_What?_ Kimble mumbled, his mouth full with Molly's kiss.

_Close yer eyes and let yer power speak yer words. Thinks real hard._

Kimble found it within himself to obey. He was still kissing her luscious mouth, but his hands strayed no further than to rub gentle circles on the back of her soft and fuzzy sweater. He thought of all the good times he'd shared with her running the daycare center back at Westchester. The times they had watched movies together, just the two of them because Remy was out on a mission. They had confided in one another at times, helped each other through hard times. When Angel was sick or being troublesome it was Molly who often helped him through that, easing the strain of being a single parent. She was his friend, his sister, and at times his mother. He let these thoughts roll off of him a wave of Kundatesh.

_**/ I loves ya, Molly. Like the whole world. Yer so sweet an' fine. I loves ya an' I loves Remy so much. Ya wants ta know what Remy feels? It's this. This great love I gots inside that ain't never gonna die. I gots it fer him, an' he gots it fer me. He uses it ta heals me inside when I hurts so bad. I'm alone all the time, Molly. I'm alone and sometimes when it swallows me up, I gots ta have it. I gots ta feels this love. I knows it's selfish and there ain't no words I kin say ta makes it all right. I knows that an' I'm powerful sorry.**_

_**We gots it for each other, him an me. And we gots it fer you, too. Both of us. When he tells me how much he loves you, I feels it like this. Now yer feelin' it, too. Feel this. Feel alla me now, Molly. I loves ya so much. We loves ya so much. /**_

Molly cried out as Kimble's great love poured into her brain. In the outside world, his body was separated from her by layers of cloth, but his powerful Kundatesh was pounding into her, pleasuring her like no one else ever had. Kimble had never tried anything on this scale before and his release was stronger than he could have imagined, fueled by the sudden burst of emotions they had flung at each other.

She was reacting to it as if he was a ghostly lover, touching her with unseen hands on the bright shimmering essence of her soul. His loving passion was flooding her senses and making her feel something no mere human ever could. She'd gotten sips like this from Remy, but never a blast on this scale. She was truly loved, accepted and wanted by Kimble. This was his gift to her, making her feel important and valued in a very real way. He'd felt this way before now and he would always love her. It came without jealousy of her position in Remy's bed because the only thing he ever wanted was Gambit's happiness and she provided that. She knew that now. That and she knew Remy's love for her was just as real, just as strong as this. What Kimble was doing now was bouncing back Remy's expressed feelings for her right back in an indirect way of confirming her husband's love for her. The Kundatesh never lies and Kimble was merely passing along a message he'd gotten from Remy many, many times. Gambit loved Kimble dearly, but Molly was more to him. She was his everything.

Molly's body couldn't handle the empathic rush of love and bright passion assaulting the pleasure centers of her brain. She shuddered and climaxed fully clothed, cumming harder than she ever had before. She was writhing and convulsing, pinned between his body and the counter. Kimble felt it with the full range of his sensitivity exposed and shuddered from the shock of it. He was lost in her orgasmic backwash and climaxed himself, sending it right back into her again, compounding his error. It was like a whole handful of firecrackers had gone off in between them, a small series of Kundatesh explosions. He'd had no idea that this would be the result of his little experiment and was floundering, all sense of control he thought he might have had of this an illusion.

His backwash slammed her. He didn't restrain it, he didn't know how. She wasn't as sensitive as Remy, thankfully, so there had been no need. She didn't black out, but was convulsing again, a twisted snarl of intense pleasure torn from her as she bucked against him. It was too much for him. She never felt it as Kimble fell away from her and hit the floor, his consciousness evaporating from the intensity of this. He didn't bother to try and catch himself, he'd gotten somewhat used to this with Remy, and preferred to just let go and let the wave take him, table and chairs be damned.

Molly swam in a sea of bliss, Remy's indirect love for her a real thing she could feel even though it was his Siskan that had given it to her. She was basking in a glow that made her feel as though Remy was all around her and inside her like a vaporous lover, something not solid, but definitely there. Something that could never be lost. Yes, it was Remy she was thinking of now, the only man she would ever love with all of her soul.

She came back to herself after a moment and stood drunkenly, laughing softly to herself, intoxicated on the rush. She rubbed her tiny clawed hands together and smelled them, seeking the scent of the one who'd made her so high, but there was nothing there. All she could smell was her own self and the soap Kimble had used to wash that morning. She reached out in front of her, dazed and puzzled by Kimble's absence. He'd been right in front of her a second ago.

The Siskan was on the floor now, but rising slowly, his face revealing his anguish. It was a look she was very familiar with, she'd seen it on his face after every time he and Remy had slipped. No, he hadn't actually made love to her in the physical sense, but as far as he was concerned he'd just gone way over the line, far more than he had intended.

**_You okay? _**she signed, instantly concerned. The stricken look on his face was horrible.

He wouldn't speak to her, had hardly glanced her way. He stood awkwardly, wobbling on unsteady legs, the tears already spilling down his cheeks again. How could he have been so stupid! That was the last time he took Zander's advice for anything!

She pulled away from the counter, her own legs playing traitor by not fully supporting her. She was startled by the stiffness in her body, she'd had no idea he'd been that rough on her mentally, she hadn't felt it at the time. She grabbed at him, but he pulled away. "Don't you leaves my Remy!" he sobbed. "Not fer this! Please! I won't makes him touch me again, I swears! No matter how much I'm hurtin's! I swears! Never, ever again!" He grabbed his cigarettes and his badge for the upstairs door from the table and fled, leaving her alone.

------------

Remy found him a couple of hours later. He and Molly'd had a nice long talk. It had been hard for him at first when he'd seen her and read instantly from her shine what had happened. Now the roles had been reversed and he was the one who'd been betrayed. A climax was sex whether there was fucking involved or not, he was that protective and jealous of her. He'd been instantly angry and ready to fight, but compassion stayed his hand when he saw her guilt and shame over the act. She'd had some time to think about what she had almost done, about what she had begged Kimble to do. Kimble's compromise had softened her guilt and shame with love, only because he had used it as a tool to show her just how much he did love her and how much Remy had loved her as well.

Gambit wasn't without his own sense of shame on the matter, now that he knew Molly's pain for himself, he would never stumble again. He finally understood what his weakness had wrought. He kissed her instead and they cried, vowing not to break up nor betray each other ever again. This was a final vow that once they had made, neither one ever broke again.

Gambit found his Siskan hiding outside under one of the Blackbirds parked out on the landing platform. There was no shade here in the desert so the planes were a popular place to those willing to risk the heat for some outside air. Kimble was sitting up against the great front wheel of the vehicle, his face dusty from the sand and streaked with tears.

"Bonjour, Kim. You okay, mon amoureux?"

Kimble looked up at him fearfully, certain he was about to be beaten or worse, but saw only peace in Remy's shine. At first he thought Gambit must not have found out, but then realized that wasn't the case at all. His former Master knew but had forgiven him already, no words ever having had been spoken.

As per usual, Kimble immediately took the blame for everything, guilty or not, and sobbed, "I'm so sorry! It wuz my faults! I- I-!"

Remy came to him, awkward now with the new brace on his leg, but managed to get his arms around him. "It's okay, Kim. Really. Me an' Molly, it's okay."

Kimble sobbed against him. "I tol' her that I wouldn't ever touch ya again! I promise! It won't happens again, I swears it!"

Gambit squeezed him and sent out a powerful vibration of love and forgiveness. "Je sais, I know. It's okay, cher. Paisible maintanent. Paisible, eh? Me an' Molly talked about it, it's okay. You ain't de only one to make dat promise, bien? Dis a t'ree way love... and a t'ree way promise. We all gonna stick together, we ain't gonna break. We just can't play no more, you an' me. No matter 'ow much either one of us wants to."

"I promise! I promise!" Kimble cried, trembling now. "I loves ya. I loves ya both so much!"

"Oui, cher. We love you, too."

Remy rocked him, his own eyes wet. How he loved his Siskan. His Siskan and Molly both. He'd learned a powerful lesson today, one that he kept with him always. He gave comfort to his lover and then walked him back to the Complex. They sat down at Remy's table, the three of them, and had some lunch, all the air cleared between them. This thing that could have so easily torn them apart instead brought them that much closer together. It was a bonding they would need for the troubled times ahead. Jael wasn't through with them, not by a long shot.

To be continued in Warning Shot.


End file.
